Rite of Passage
by dS-Tiff
Summary: When Ray finds himself in charge of an apprentice, things quickly become complicated. Can Ray and Fraser help him before he makes a big mistake?
1. Chapter 1

_**The story is set during the second half of Season 2 of due South. I hope you enjoy it. All reviews welcome, thank you kindly.**_

 **Rite of Passage.**

 **CHAPTER 1.**

"Welsh wants to see you in his office."

Ray Vecchio stopped dead in his tracks and threw his hands in the air in despair. Today had started so well. He'd been quite happy as he drove towards the Twenty Seventh precinct this morning. The sun was shining. Maria, Tony and the kids were in Florida meaning no early morning wake-up calls and his beloved 1972 Buick Riviera had just had a tune-up and was running like a dream. He'd walked into the squad room with a smile on his face, but now it was all over.

"Good morning, Elaine," he scowled at the Civilian Aid. "And may I just say thanks a whole lot for ruining my day. Remind me to return the favour sometime," he sneered with all the sarcasm he could muster.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger ," replied Elaine with a shrug and she returned to the report she had been typing for Jack Huey.

Ray sighed. He had a fair idea what this was about. Actually, it could be about one of two things, he realised. His mind raced as he quickly came up with a series of excuses. Ray was confident he could talk his way out of whatever trouble he was in. He'd become particularly good at it since he'd been working with Constable Benton Fraser. The Mountie had a habit of getting them both into the kind of bizarre situations for which an explanation was always demanded by Welsh and Ray had become adept at smoothing things over with his silver tongue and charming smile.

The truth was Lieutenant Welsh was learning that he'd rather not know all the details. As long as they had a perpetrator in the cells and a watertight case , Welsh had realised he was more comfortable being kept in the dark these days when it came to Vecchio and Fraser.

Ray threw his overcoat over the back of his chair, took a deep breath and strode confidently towards the office. He knocked loudly, but didn't wait for a reply before barging in.

"Sir, if this is about my expenses," he began, but Welsh interrupted him.

"I'd shut up if I were you, Vecchio," snapped the Lieutenant. "It's not about your expenses."

Ray let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, right, good...well if it's about the Nailor case, I will rewrite that report this afternoon," he continued. "And Fraser can back me up on the details."

"This has nothing to do with Nailor," replied Welsh. Then his face fell into a frown. "Wait...what was that about your expenses?"

"Oh, nothing, Sir," replied Ray dismissively.

Welsh made a mental note to check expenses claims more closely in the future. For now, though, he had something more important on his mind.

"Just listen for a minute, Detective," ordered the Lieutenant. "Superintendent Fitzgerald is coming here this afternoon."

"The Super?" queried Ray. "Coming here? This afternoon?"

"Is there an echo in here?" asked Welsh folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"Not that I'm aware of, sir," replied Ray with a straight face. He paused for a moment. "Oh I get it," he continued eventually. "You want me to tidy my desk. I can do that. Not a problem at all, although they do say that a messy workspace is a sign of intelligence."

"They do?"

"Yes, sir, they do," nodded Ray. "Was there anything else?"

"I admit that tidying your desk would be good," answered Welsh, "but that's not why I called you in here. You see Vecchio, he's coming here this afternoon to see you."

"Me, sir?" exclaimed Ray. Sweat started to form on his brow as panic set in. Ray's mind flew over the events of the past few weeks. The Nailor case had, admittedly, dragged on longer than he would have liked, but it was over know. He and Fraser had busted the guy two days ago and the evidence was all clean. Even Assistant State's Attorney Louise St Laurent had voiced her appreciation for the way they'd closed the case…over dinner at Luigi's, which had been a bonus.

 _What else? What the hell have I done to attract the attention of the guy in charge of the whole of the Chicago PD…? Oh please god, tell me this is not about Zuko…_

Ray was still fighting nightmares after the death of Irene Zuko, but he was finally starting to feel he could move on. Fraser had, thankfully, stopped him doing something stupid that day and Frank Zuko was in jail where he belonged. It was over. Done and dusted. Filed under H for Heartbreak. Why would the Super be poking his nose in now, almost two months later?

"Vecchio!"

Welsh's voice cut into Ray's thoughts.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, sir," replied Ray, blinking hard to get the image of Irene bleeding to death in his arms out of his mind.

"Don't you want to know why?" asked Welsh getting to his feet and narrowing his eyes with concern.

"Um…" Ray wasn't sure that he did.

"Fitzgerald is coming here, to the Two Seven, because he's apparently of the misguided opinion that you, Detective Vecchio, are one of the best cops in the city," Welsh explained.

Ray's mouth fell open in shock. "He is?" he said when he finally found his voice. "Well, I mean, he'd be right, of course," he added as a sense of pride overtook all other thoughts and he broke into a huge grin.

"Hmmm," replied Welsh sounding entirely unconvinced. "That may be your opinion, Detective, I couldn't possibly comment. However, Fitzgerald has a particular mission in mind and he feels you'd be perfect for the job. I've just got off the phone to his assistant at Head Office. As you're probably aware, the Superintendent has three kids, grown up kids now, of course. His eldest son, Colin, is currently the youngest ever cop to be heading up a Special Ops Task Force and his daughter, Rebecca, is the highest ranking female officer in the Hostage Negotiation Team."

"That's fascinating, sir," replied Ray, not even bothering to disguise the sarcasm in his voice. "So what's my mission?"

"Fitzgerald has another son," Welsh explained. "Ryan. He starts at the Academy in four months. Fitzgerald wants him to get some field experience first, though, so he wants his son to ride with one of the city's top officers for a few days and for reasons known only to himself he's chosen you."

Ray needed a moment to take in all this information. "He wants his kid to ride with me?" he asked. He was suddenly deflated. He'd expected Welsh to tell him he'd been recruited for a high level security mission, not a baby sitting assignment. "I'm sorry, sir," he said. "You'll have to tell him I can't do it."

"Vecchio, this is the Superintendent," Welsh replied. "He tells us what we can, or can't do, not the other way around. Fitzgerald has read your file. He's seen your arrest record, read all your reports and he wants you. End of story."

"But, sir, he's got it all wrong," insisted Ray, desperately trying to see a way out. "We all know that my arrest record was appalling until Fraser showed up."

Welsh raised his eyebrows. "Are you telling me you're not pulling your weight around here, Detective?" he asked. "Are you suggesting that promotion I gave you two months ago was a mistake?"

"Er…" Ray panicked. "Er…" He suddenly realised what he'd said and he needed to back-pedal fast. "Not at all, sir," he said, laughing a deep, over the top, belly laugh. "What I…what I meant was, er…was that it has been useful to have Fraser around to help, not having a permanent partner and all. I mean, obviously I'm the one doing all police work, but it's handy to have a wing man whenever there's any rummaging in dumpsters, or leaping off tall buildings to be done."

"I see," nodded Welsh. He had conflicting feelings for the Mountie. It was true that Vecchio's arrest record had improved exponentially since Constable Benton Fraser had arrived in Chicago, but it was also true that Welsh always found himself having to explain away the crazy behaviour and bizarre methods he employed to various departments and senior officials. It seemed that Superintendent Fitzgerald, however, was only interested in the end results. The thought of the son of the most senior officer in Chicago spending any time working with Vecchio and Fraser terrified Welsh, but he'd had no choice but to agree to the request.

"So I expect to see you back here at one thirty, Vecchio," he said, reluctantly. "And bring the Mountie. Fitzgerald wants to meet him."

"Yes, sir," nodded Ray.

"Vecchio, don't screw this up," added Welsh. "You're carrying the reputation of the entire precinct on your shoulders. Understood?"

"Of course, sir," said Ray, seriously. "You know you can rely on me."

Welsh watched him walk out of the office. He sighed deeply. "Don't let me down," he muttered under his breath.

Ray went back to his desk and sat down. "This is the last thing I need," he said to no one in particular.

"You in some kind of trouble?" asked Elaine, turning around to face him.

"No, of course not!" exclaimed Ray. "As it happens I've been given a huge responsibility. Of course I can deal with it, no problem. A little more notice might have been nice, that's all," he added with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"What kind of responsibility?" asked Jack Huey, walking over to join them. "You on the next doughnut run?" He chuckled at his own joke.

"Very funny, Jack," retorted Ray. "If you must know, I'll be nurturing the next generation for a few days." He went on to quickly explain the situation to his colleagues.

"Fitzgerald must really want to put his kid off joining the Academy," sniggered Jack and he walked back to his desk.

"No, actually he wants his son to learn from one of the best. Me," Ray called after him proudly. "You ask Welsh."

"You should go buy diapers," added Elaine with a giggle. "Maybe a colouring book to keep him occupied?"

"The kid's twenty years old!" exclaimed Ray. "This is a big deal for us, OK? So quit fooling around and tidy this place up." He got to his feet and clapped his hands authoritatively. "Come on, people, let's make a good impression!" he yelled.

A few people glanced up from their desks, but no one made any move towards tidying up.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed. "What does a Detective First Grade need to do to earn some respect around here?" He sat down again and picked up the telephone. He just hoped Fraser wasn't on sentry duty today.

xXxXxXx

"Fraser!"

Less than a second after Inspector Thatcher's voice had broken the silence of the Consulate he was in her office standing to attention.

"Sir?" he enquired when she said nothing to acknowledge his presence.

"Ah, there you are," she said eventually. She thrust a piece of paper across her desk. "Read that," she ordered.

Fraser gingerly stepped forward and picked up the piece of paper. He assumed he was in some kind of trouble with the Inspector again. Their professional relationship was becoming terribly confusing to him, even more so after the incident with Lyndon Buxley and the eggs. He had definitely felt something that day when they'd been locked in the incubation room together and he was fairly certain that she'd felt it too, but he could neither explain what it was he'd felt, nor decide if it was a good or a bad feeling. Feelings confused Fraser at the best of times.

Fraser scanned down the words on the paper. "It appears to be an invoice," he said, confused.

"I know that, Fraser," snapped the Inspector. "I want you to read the small print."

"Ah," replied Fraser. "Um…Payment shall be due by the buyer to the seller within thirty days of the date of this invoice," he began. "Failure to do so will result in an additional charge of…"

"Alright, alright, that's enough," Thatcher interrupted him.

Fraser replaced the paper on her desk and looked at her with speculation. "Is there a problem with payment of this invoice?" he asked.

"No, nothing like that," she replied.

"I see."

There was a long, silent pause during which time Thatcher shuffled through some other papers on her desk.

"Excuse me, sir," Fraser began, gingerly. "But was there anything else?" He had been in the middle of writing a report and he wanted to complete it before lunchtime so he could spend the afternoon helping Ray with his reports.

"If you must know, I've lost my glasses," replied Thatcher.

"Oh dear," replied Fraser.

There was a time when the Inspector denied the fact that she needed glasses, but she had quickly realised that it was impossible to keep such facts from her observant subordinate. "Of course I only need them occasionally," she said quickly. "But it is very frustrating."

"Do you remember when you had them last?" asked Fraser.

"If I remembered that they wouldn't be lost!" snapped Thatcher impatiently. She got up from her desk and crossed to the window. "But I'm sure they must be here at the Consulate somewhere."

"Of course, I'm sorry," replied Fraser, sheepishly. He was only trying to be helpful, but yet again the Inspector had found cause to criticise. "I will endeavour to locate them for you," he added. He stood rooted to the spot waiting for an acknowledgement from the Inspector, but she was just gazing out onto the street below.

The truth was the missing glasses had just been an excuse for Thatcher to call him into her office. Of course she wanted them found too, but she rarely wore them anyway so it wasn't urgent. However, seeing Fraser was urgent. Well, perhaps not so much urgent as necessary. Thatcher needed to see him. Why she wasn't sure, but the thought had come from deep within her and she hadn't been able to shake it. She needed to see him, to talk to him, to do something that would clear the fog in her mind that appeared whenever she thought about him.

Benton Fraser irritated her to the point of distraction. He was the single most annoying officer she'd ever had under her command and yet she couldn't bear the thought of not having him around. She had hoped to make sense of it this morning, just by calling him in to read some small print. Now he was here, though, she did not know what to say to him,

"May I be dismissed?" Fraser asked hopefully, but before the Inspector could reply the telephone on her desk began to ring.

Thatcher spun round just as Fraser moved to answer it.

"Leave it," she ordered and he stepped back again. "Turnbull can get it."

"Sir, may I remind you that Constable Turnbull is outside on sentry duty," said Fraser.

"Oh." She couldn't let it ring, it might be important. She stared at Fraser. "Well, answer it then!" she snapped, immediately kicking herself for her abrupt manner.

 _Why can't I just talk to him normally…? Why is it so hard for me to have a conversation with him…?_

Fraser picked up the receiver and reeled off the official greeting in dual languages. He was a little surprised to hear Ray's voice on the other end. Immediately he realised from the tone of his friend's voice that it was an urgent matter. "Yes…yes…I see," he said as he listened to Ray's explanation of his impending mission. "Right…well, um, I'm not sure if I'll be available this afternoon," he said, with a sideways glance at Thatcher.

The Inspector sighed in resignation and waved her hand. "Just go," she mouthed.

Fraser hesitated and clasped his hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone. "But…but your glasses, sir," he said.

"I'll pull Turnbull off sentry duty and he can find them for me," she replied with another sigh.

"Thank you kindly, sir," replied Fraser with a nod of appreciation.

Thatcher returned to staring out of the window as Fraser quickly told a relieved Ray that he would meet him at the station in an half an hour. She realised that whatever it was she thought she was going to say to Fraser was probably best left unsaid anyway. For now, at least.

xXxXxXx

"Is my tie straight?"

"To the naked eye, yes." Fraser watched in mild amusement as Ray picked tiny bits of lint from the arm of his Armani suit.

"Hair?" Ray asked, holding his head up high.

"Perfectly coiffed," replied Fraser.

Ray held out his hands. "Look, Benny, I'm shaking," he admitted.

"Ray, your appearance is perfectly respectable," said Fraser with a frown. "You have no need to be nervous."

"No, no need at all…" nodded Ray. "Only my entire career!"

"Superintendent Fitzgerald has asked you to give his son a taste of police work," replied Fraser. "You simply have to go about your daily activities. You have nothing to be worried about. The Superintendent has every confidence in you."

Ray nodded and a smile returned to his face. "Yeah, he does, doesn't he," he agreed. As nervous as Ray was about meeting the Superintendent, he was deeply honoured that he had been chosen for this task. He had endured some gentle ribbing from Huey and the other detectives, but he knew it was only because they were jealous.

Elaine appeared from Welsh's office carrying any empty tray. "They're ready for you," she said. "He seems really nice," she added with a smile. "He thanked me for the coffee."

Ray nodded, took a deep breath and glanced at Fraser. "No Inuit stories," he said and, ignoring Fraser's puzzled look, he strode into the office.

"Hello, sir," said Ray, extending his arm for a handshake. "May I say what an honour it is to meet you."

Superintendent Fitzgerald was a tall, square jawed man with close cut hair and a tidy moustache. Ray was taken aback at how imposing his presence was. Of course Ray had seen him at various official events over the years, but this was the first time he'd been this close and he'd certainly never spoken to him before.

"Detective Vecchio," beamed Fitzgerald, shaking Ray firmly by the hand. Then he noticed Fraser standing behind Ray and he offered his hand to the Mountie. "And you must be Constable Fraser," he said.

Fraser nodded. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance," he said.

"OK, enough of the formality," chortled Fitzgerald. "We're all in this together, we're all cops just doing our jobs."

"Absolutely," nodded Ray with a grin, allowing himself to relax a little.

 _This guy doesn't seem so bad after all…_

"This is my son, Ryan," continued Fitzgerald. "Come on, son," he urged. "Don't hide in the shadows."

Ray hadn't even noticed the tall, skinny young man standing in the corner.

"Hi there, Ryan," grinned Ray. "So I hear you're gonna be spending a few days with me."

"So my dad tells me," replied Ryan with a shrug as he stepped forward. He looked much younger than his twenty years. He had an unkempt mop of blonde curls which seemed at odds with his smart shirt and trousers.

More handshaking ensued and Fitzgerald spoke to Fraser about his work as a liaison officer. "You're an asset to this Department," he concluded. "If only all of my officers were as dedicated to the search for justice as you and Vecchio."

"Ah, well, it comes from here," replied Ray, thumping his chest with his fist. "From the heart, I mean," he added in case it needed clarifying. "It's an honour to serve. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than wearing this badge and being out there making the streets safer for the citizens of this fine city. Don't I always say that, sir?" he looked to Welsh for affirmation.

Welsh almost choked on his coffee. "Um…um…all the time, Vecchio," replied Welsh when he'd recovered his composure.

"That's wonderful to hear," smiled Fitzgerald, taking Ray at his word.

"So when do we get going?" asked Ryan. "I've been waiting for this my whole life! Let's go bust some bad guys!"

"Ryan, you know this experience isn't about busting bad guys," his father frowned at him. "I want you to learn about day-to-day police work."

"Can't wait," replied Ryan, dryly.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," said Fitzgerald, ignoring his son's less than enthusiastic response. "Thanks again, Lieutenant, for agreeing to this. Take good care of my boy, Detective," he added and with a final round of handshaking he left the office.

"Vecchio has a lead to follow up this afternoon," Welsh explained to Ryan. "Your father's right, there's a mundane side to this job." He was still not completely sold on the idea of this, but although it hadn't been a direct order, there was no way Welsh could refuse a request from the Superintendent. His first impression of Ryan had only served to concern him even more.

"Oh, sure, I know that," nodded Ryan, nonchalantly. "I was just kidding. I live in a cop family, I know what's it's like."

"Good," said Ray, as they all headed for the door. "Then you also know that the junior officer buys the doughnuts."

Ryan scowled behind his back and followed them both out into the squad room.

"In the RCMP, certainly in the more northerly outposts, it is customary for a new recruit to be given gifts on his, or her first day as good luck tokens," Fraser explained as they walked down the stairs. "For example, I was presented with a walrus carved from driftwood and a pendant made from caribou antler."

"Oh, geez, now I feel left out," replied Ray, sarcastically. "No one ever gave me a pendant made from dead animal parts."

"If you like I could…" began Fraser, earnestly, but Ray stopped on the stairs and spun round to interrupt his friend.

"No," he said, forcefully. "I'll live without, if it's all the same to you."

Fraser shrugged and they continued to walk to the car. Diefenbaker came running over to join them. Fraser made a mental note to ask the wolf where he had been all morning, but now was not the time.

"Is that a wolf?" exclaimed Ryan, freezing in his tracks as the animal bounded over.

"This is Diefenbaker," Fraser explained. "He won't harm you."

"Unless he wants to," noted Ray.

Ryan looked uneasily at Dief, but his concern was forgotten when he saw Ray's car. "Wow, nice wheels," he said admiringly.

Ray rolled his eyes. "This is not just my wheels," he replied. "She is a work of art. A thing of beauty and I don't want her blown up again, so just keep your hands to yourself, capiche?"

"Blown up?" queried Ryan with concern as Ray held his seat back for the young man to get into the back seat of the car as Fraser did the same on the other side for Dief.

"Never mind," replied Ray, dismissively. He dropped the seat back into position and was about to get in himself, when Fraser spoke across the roof of the car.

"May I just say, Ray, I was…well, I was moved by what you said back there in the Lieutenant's office," said the Mountie.

Ray looked at him with a puzzled expression. "What exactly did I say?" he asked suspiciously.

"About the sense of honour you have in carrying your shield," Fraser explained. "I have a similar feeling about this uniform." He smiled proudly. "It was good to hear you say it, that's all." Fraser blinked to clear the tears of pride which had formed in his eyes.

"Ha!" laughed Ray, throwing his head back. "Sorry to break your heart, Benny, but that was just for the Super's benefit."

Fraser's face fell. "You mean…you mean you're not proud to be an officer of the law?" he asked.

Ray laughed, about to return another snarky remark, but then a recent memory flashed into his head and the laughter faded. The last time he'd worn his own uniform had been at Louis Gardino's funeral. Had he felt proud to be wearing it that day? Under the circumstances pride had been the last thing on his mind. Did he feel proud to be able to rid the city of lowlifes like Frankie Zuko? Of course he did. Despite what happened to Irene, he could still be a cop. He could still make a difference and now maybe part of him was doing it for her.

"Course I am, Benny," he replied quietly.

Fraser understood. He always did. He nodded thoughtfully and they got into the car.

They had barely driven out of the car park when Ryan leaned across and tapped Ray on the shoulder. "OK, you can pull over here," he said.

Ray glanced at Fraser who appeared to be as puzzled as he was. Fraser turned in his seat to face Ryan. "Our scheduled meeting is twenty two blocks from here," he began. "Now as much as I'd be happy to walk the distance, it would be rather time consuming. Even at an average walking speed of five kilometres per hour it would take…"

"Just stop the car," snapped Ryan.

Fraser turned back to Ray and shrugged.

"This had better be good," grumbled Ray as he pulled the Riv into a space outside an office block. He switched off the engine and he and Fraser turned to face Ryan. They were completely taken aback by what they saw.

Ryan was holding out a bundle of folded dollar bills. "Here's two hundred bucks," he said. "I figured this would be enough. So now you can let me out of the car. I'll go and hang out at the mall with a buddy of mine, maybe catch a movie, while you guys go do whatever it was you were gonna do today and my Dad doesn't need to be any the wiser. Deal?"


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2.**

Fraser and Ray were both momentarily speechless.

"C'mon, guys," said Ryan. "It's no big deal."

"No, it's no big deal," replied Ray. "You're only trying to bribe a couple of cops into lying to the Superintendent. I don't see anything wrong with that. Do you, Fraser?"

"Well, I…" stammered Fraser.

Ray rolled his eyes. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked Ryan, raising his voice.

"Look, I'm trying to do you a favour," replied Ryan. "This is a waste of time. I know how to be a cop. I've been training for this my whole life. In four months I have to go through the Academy, but we all know that'll just be a formality. I've got this in the bag. Being a cop is in my blood. I don't need to follow you around for three days like a puppy dog."

"OK, kid, listen up," Ray's face was serious now. "Cop rule one-oh-one, lose the attitude. It's that kind of arrogance that'll get you killed out there. Right, Fraser?"

"Indeed," agreed Fraser. "Believe me, whatever you think you know about law enforcement is nothing compared to being out in the field."

"But my dad is the Super!" exclaimed Ryan. "My mom heads up the Training Department and look at my brother and sister. It's in my blood. I used to read the training manual for fun. I've been living this game since I was born."

"It's not a game," noted Fraser sternly. "Lives are at stake at every turn."

Ryan shrugged dismissively. "Whatever," he mumbled.

"My father was also a police officer," Fraser continued. "A highly respected officer in the RCMP. I learned a lot from him and I'm still learning from him now, but he would be the first to agree that you simply cannot learn everything from books, or anecdotes."

Ryan slumped back in the seat.

"Look, kid, we can't make you do this," admitted Ray. "We can't force you to come with us, so you're free to go, but you can keep your money - as much as I could do with it – and we're calling your dad right now."

Ray pulled his phone from the pocket of his jacket and flipped it open.

"No, wait!" exclaimed Ryan suddenly. "You can't call him. Please. He'll…he'll…"

Ray put his phone in his lap and glanced at Fraser.

"What will he do, Ryan?" asked Fraser. He didn't like the sudden change in tone of Ryan's voice any more than Ray did.

"He'll just be disappointed," replied Ryan. "He's already made it clear that he doesn't think I can cut it."

"He said that?" asked Ray.

"I guess not in so many words," replied Ryan. "But it's kinda obvious. That's why he's arranged this little field trip for me. Colin and Becky didn't have to go through this. He wants me to fail so he can say I told you so."

Fraser glanced at Ray with a puzzled look. They hadn't spoken to Superintendent Fitzgerald for very long, but his reputation preceded him and from what they'd seen and heard he seemed like a good man, a very fair man. Certainly not one who would treat his own son with so little respect. The things Ryan were saying about him just didn't add up.

"Perhaps you are misinterpreting him?" suggested Fraser. "My own father is not always able to put his feelings into words – I mean, was not always able to when he was alive – but I soon learnt that he was simply trying to be encouraging and supportive, despite his occasionally unfortunate vocabulary choices."

"OK, maybe I've got it all wrong, maybe I'm a moron?" suggested Ryan with a sneer.

"Listen up, no one's calling you a moron," said Ray. "Although some people might say you're acting like one now."

"Gee, thanks," shrugged Ryan, folding his arms defensively across his chest.

"Look, kid, you've got the perfect opportunity here to prove yourself," Ray continued. "Just hang out with us for a few days, show me what you can do and maybe your dad'll quit giving you a hard time?"

"You don't know my dad," Ryan pointed out.

"You didn't know mine," replied Ray giving the young man a hard stare. "Believe me, if you think you've got paternal issues, you're kidding yourself."

Ryan's eyes narrowed. He realised from Ray's words that there was a story to be told, but right now he didn't care. He sighed deeply. "OK," he said eventually. "Maybe you're right? Let's just get this over with."

"Good decision, son," said Fraser, nodding with approval.

"And will you guys stop calling me son, or kid!" exclaimed Ryan.

"Sorry," replied Fraser as Ray started the engine. "It's a bad habit I picked up from my own father. Fortunately that was the only one."

"Your dad had bad habits?" asked Ray, with a wicked twinkle in his eye. "Oh, don't tell me he sometimes forgot to apologise to fresh snow before he walked on it?" asked Ray.

"That's just silly, Ray."

"Or did he occasionally forget to polish his boots?" asked Ray with a grin.

"Good lord, no!" exclaimed Fraser. "That would constitute a total disregard for the uniform."

"Cop rule one-oh-two, Ryan," Ray noted. "Polish your boots."

Ryan rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the banter between Ray and Fraser for the rest of the journey.

xXxXxXx

The interview went well and Ray left with several pages of notes which he hoped would help him with a case he'd been working on for a few weeks. Ryan sat in on the interview and actually found it quite interesting to watch Ray and Fraser quizzing the witness. By the time they'd finished Fraser was glad to note that he seemed much happier than he had been before they'd started.

"Well I hoped you learnt a few things there. It's not all about running after bad guys, routine work is just as important," Ray pointed out as they walked back to the car.

"Yeah, I know," agreed Ryan. "I've had this lecture from my dad a hundred times. He thinks I don't understand, but I do. Boring stuff is important. Doesn't make it any less boring though."

"You're gonna get days like this, so you'd better get used to it," said Ray.

When they were back in the car, Ryan tapped Ray on the shoulder for the second time since they'd left the station.

"Now what?" snapped Ray. "You got another deal for me?"

"Look, I'm, er, I'm sorry about before," said Ryan, sheepishly. "I just...I'm just tired of my dad...He doesn't understand me..." he trailed off.

"Perhaps you should try talking to him about how you feel?" suggested Fraser.

"What happened to 'There's nothing more uncomfortable to a man than talking about feelings?'" asked Ray with a grin.

"Sshhh!" Fraser replied with a glare and Ray turned his full attention back to the road.

Fraser knew his own father struggled with such things, but that didn't mean all fathers were like him. He had quickly become aware that something was troubling Ryan and he hoped the young man would be able to turn to his father for guidance. Fraser had longed for paternal guidance so many times during his formative years, but had never had the opportunity. Only in death, it seemed, was Robert Fraser finally able to make up for lost time.

Ryan shrugged at Fraser's suggestion and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the radio crackled into life.

"All units, robbery in progress at Carr's Jewellery store over on Hanover," came Elaine's disembodied voice. "Shots fired. Please respond."

Before Ray could offer anything resembling a good reason why they should definitely not respond Fraser had grabbed the radio unit.

"Dispatch, unit three four two responding" he said. "We're two blocks away."

Ray rolled his eyes and screeched the Riv around to head toward the scene.

 _Of course Benny's not gonna pass up the chance to endanger both our lives by diving into the middle of an armed robbery…!_

"Acknowledged. Back-up's on the way," replied Elaine over the radio as Fraser reached out to stop his hat sliding off the dashboard. She paused before adding, "Fraser...be careful."

"Thank you kindly, Elaine," said Fraser and replaced the radio.

"And I'll be careful too, Elaine," Ray called out, well aware that Elaine couldn't hear him. "Try not to worry about me!"

"I'm sure Elaine's support was directed at you too, Ray," said Fraser.

Ray shook his head and suppressed a grin at his friend's naivety. As they turned the corner into Hanover they both heard a shot ring out. Fraser glanced at Ray with concern as he screeched the car to a halt. Ray nodded, acknowledging the danger they were about to face, then Fraser grabbed his hat and leapt out of the car.

Ray quickly checked his gun and opened his door. He saw Fraser was already half way across the street, unarmed as usual.

 _Jeez I wish he'd get himself a gun…_

"Ryan, stay here," he said and Ryan, powerless to object, watched him run after Fraser.

By the time Ray ran into the jewellery store, Fraser was on his hands and knees next to the sobbing figure of a woman. In front of them the lifeless body of a man lay face down with a bullet wound in his back. Fraser glanced up at Ray and shook his head sadly.

Not that Ray needed confirmation. He mumbled an expletive under his breath. Sometimes he really hated this job. "Shooter?" he asked, looking around at the mess in the shop. There was broken glass everywhere, the thieves had emptied almost every cabinet of jewellery. Ray estimated the haul at millions of dollars.

Fraser glanced at the woman and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Unknown at this juncture," he replied. "There were two. She only saw one of them leave. The other may still be on the premises."

Ray felt a tightening in his chest and he spun round again. Just then Diefenbaker started barking and Fraser leapt up. Dief ran over to him and then back towards a door behind the counter.

"He's out back, Ray," announced Fraser and he hauled the woman to her feet.

Ray nodded and ran towards the door of the storeroom, his heart pounding. The woman clearly did not want to leave the body of her husband and she struggled against Fraser as he tried to get her to safety, but at soon as she was hidden from sight Ray thumped the door hard with his fist.

"Chicago PD!" he yelled. He held his breath and waited a second for a response, but there was only silence.

Suddenly the main door opened. Ray spun round with his gun raised, but as soon as he realised who was standing in the doorway he quickly lowered his weapon. "Geez, Ryan!" he exclaimed. "I told you to stay in the car!"

Ryan did not reply. He stood frozen in the doorway, unable to speak. He'd quickly become frustrated at being left out of the action and decided to come and see what was going on, but now he'd seen the body of the man lying on the floor and he couldn't take his eyes of him. For a brief second Ryan thought he was going to pass out, or vomit, or both. Then the physical feelings were overtaken by emotional ones. Ryan stared open mouthed as the pool of blood at the man's side slowly spread across the polished shop floor.

"Ryan, get down!" yelled Fraser and he beckoned the young man to join the victim's wife behind the counter. Ryan glanced up at the sound of Fraser's voice as if he was only at that moment aware of the presence of anyone else in the shop.

Fraser quickly jumped up, grabbed his arm and dragged him to the relative safety behind the counter with the woman.

Then they heard a noise coming from the storeroom and everyone's attention turned back towards the door.

"Police! Come out with your hands up!" yelled Ray.

Satisfied that Ryan was as safe as he could be for now, Fraser darted over to join Ray. He nodded silently and they were about to kick the down the door, when it flew open from the other side. The gunman burst out, knocking Fraser backwards against the wall and he landed on the ground with a thud.

The gunman ran straight out of the shop. Ray quickly fired two shots, but without any time to take a proper aim both missed by a long way. He glanced back at Fraser and was relieved to see the Mountie appeared to be OK. Realising there was no time to waste, Ray bolted out of the door with Diefenbaker at his heels.

Fraser tried to get to his feet, but he felt a sudden rush of wooziness and collapsed back against the wall.

"After him, son! He's getting away!"

Fraser spun his head round towards the voice of his father, immediately regretting the sudden movement. "I'm trying, Dad," he replied, rubbing the back of his head.

"The yank could be in trouble," continued the ghost of Robert Fraser. "You know he's a terrible shot."

"He's not," replied Fraser. "But I will see if his sights need adjusting again."

A gunshot rang out, quickly followed by another one and then two more in quick succession. Fraser glared at his father and then took a deep breath, determined to go and help his friend. He pushed himself to his feet, relieved that most of the dizziness had subsided.

Then a movement caught his eye. It was Ryan. The young man came out from behind the counter and with one final glance at the dead man he raced after Ray.

"No!" Fraser yelled, but it was too late, Ryan was already out of the door.

Fraser took another deep breath and chased after them, angry with himself for being blindsided in the first place and even angrier with his father for delaying him further. As he sprinted out into the dusk of the early evening he heard the sound of two more gunshots. The fading light created a frustrating, if momentary delay as Fraser's senses stabilised before he spotted the gunman.

He was hiding in the doorway to a convenience store, lit only by the random flashes of a faulty neon sign hanging on the wall. He fired randomly out into the street. Ray threw himself behind a dumpster for cover and returned fire.

Fraser glanced around as he raced to catch up with Ryan, thankful that the gunfire had sent any pedestrians who may have been in the vicinity running for cover. There was a moment of silence as both Ray and the gunman paused to reload. Ray was first to get off another shot and it was only then Fraser realised Ray had not yet seen Ryan racing along the pavement in the shadows.

Diefenbaker, however, had now spotted him and the wolf stopped in his tracks. He had to make a split decision. Could he take down the gunman before he shot the young human, or should he try to protect Ryan? As much as Dief wanted a piece of the lowlife, scumbag human, he knew what Fraser would do and it seemed some of the Mountie's attitudes were rubbing off on him. He'd have to leave the gunman to the humans and save the kid.

 _There'd better be a whole box of doughnuts waiting for me when this is all over..._

Reluctantly Dief charged at Ryan, barking wildly in an attempt to herd him out of danger.

The barking alerted Ray and he looked up to see Ryan running straight into danger. A sudden, horrific image crossed his mind as he imagined having to explain to the Superintendent how his son had been killed in a gunfight. He fired off another shot in the direction of the doorway, but he knew the gunman had the advantage. Then a flash of red caught his eye as Fraser ran past.

"I don't have a clean shot, Benny!" he yelled.

Diefenbaker continued barking madly, but Ryan ignored him, sidestepping the animal in pursuit of the gunman.

"Ryan, get down!" yelled Fraser, suddenly realising that Ryan had run into Ray's direct line of sight.

The next few seconds felt like hours to Ray. He took aim again, but all he could see was Ryan with Fraser and Dief. Then suddenly he saw the gunman break his cover. Ray desperately tried to get a clear aim, but it was too dangerous to fire.

 _Worse than having to tell the Super his son was killed in a gunfight would be having to tell him the bullet had come from my gun…!_

Ray suddenly realised his hand was shaking and he had to fight to keep control.

Ray saw the gunman take aim at Ryan so he ran out into the open in a final desperate attempt to get a shot. Then at last Fraser caught up with Ryan, leaping at him from behind and dragging him to the floor. The gunman adjusted his aim towards them, his finger hovering over the trigger. Ray's trigger finger flexed and a shot rang out.

Ray held his breath. He knew he'd fired, but so had the gunman.

 _Was I too late…?_

Then he saw the gunman slump to the floor and he let out a huge sigh of relief.

Ray ran over to where the man had fallen and saw his face for the first time.

 _Jeez…he could be me from ten years ago…_

Ray kicked the man's weapon across the ground to a safe distance, his own gun still trained on the man's head, but he soon realised it was safe to re-holster it. The man was dead.

 _Oh god…I killed him…_

Ray suddenly felt as if he had ice flowing through his veins and the coldness froze his senses. For a moment there was nothing else in Ray's world, only Ray and the man he'd killed. He knew this feeling, he'd felt it before, but it never got any easier.

 _I had no choice…I had no choice…_

Within minutes the scene had been cordoned off and there were police cars everywhere.

Fraser perched on the bonnet of Ray's car with Ryan. The young man hadn't said much since the shooting and he refused to make eye contact with Fraser. Fraser watched as two technicians from the Medical Examiner's office brought out the body of the jewellery store owner in a black body-bag and loaded him into a van. Fraser hated these moments, his senses were overwhelmed with the noise and the smells and the people. The air smelled of death and he longed for the smell of pine trees, or an open fire to take it away. Fraser was used to it, however and he invoked his own coping mechanisms.

For Ryan, though, this was his first such experience. Fraser knew Ryan was suffering, but no matter what he said he was just faced with a wall of silence.

Ray walked over to join them and Fraser glanced up at his friend. "You alright?" he asked.

Ray nodded. "Sure," he replied. "You know me, I just love killing people. It's right up there with winning the lottery."

Fraser frowned a little at Ray's flippant sarcasm. He knew exactly how his friend was feeling and it was the emptiest feeling in the world. He also knew that Ray would deal with it in his own way.

"Shooting team will clear you," Fraser tried to reassure him. "It was clean. You had no choice."

"Yeah, I know," agreed Ray. "Until then Welsh has my gun," he added, pulling his coat aside to reveal an empty holster. Then he turned his attentions to Ryan. "So, you got anything to say for yourself?" he asked.

"Ray," said Fraser, shaking his head slightly.

"Oh, what, you want me to go easy on him?" asked Ray, flinging his hands in the air. "He could have gotten himself killed! Hell, he could've gotten us all killed."

Ryan hung his head, but remained silent.

"You really wanna be a cop, you've got to start following orders, kid," said Ray, leaning forward to get close to Ryan's face. "I tell you to stay in the car, so you stay in the car. I tell you to stand on your head, you stand on your head. Capisce?"

Ryan shrugged, but still said nothing.

Ray realised he had to walk away. He was in no mood to discuss this now, especially not with a non-communicative, immature kid. With a final sad look to Fraser he went back to speak to the forensics team.

Fraser turned his attentions back to Ryan. "I imagine this is not easy for you," he said gently. "May I recommend talking to someone about it? It doesn't have to be me."

Ryan finally looked up, although it seemed to Fraser that he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I…I…I just saw that guy…the dead guy…" he began. "And…I don't know what came over me? He was lying there…and all that blood…"

"I'm sorry you had to see that," replied Fraser. "As a police officer, you will…"

"Don't lecture me," snapped Ryan before Fraser had chance to finish. "I know what it's like."

"As you have mentioned several times already," noted Fraser. "Although as we have said to you, theory is one thing, but putting it into practice is quite another. I remember the first time I saw a dead body. I will remember it forever."

"OK, so now I've seen my first too," replied Ryan. "That's that outta the way. On with the job, right?"

Fraser was concerned at Ryan sudden change in demeanour. He'd gone from being very distressed to calmly dismissing the whole thing in just a few seconds. "Ryan, as I said before, you really should talk to someone."

"Like a shrink?" asked Ryan, incredulously. "No way. I don't need to talk to anyone. This is what being a cop is going to be like. I can handle it. The first time is tough and this'll probably stay with me for the rest of my life, you just said that yourself, right? But it didn't stop you from being a cop."

"I didn't say anything about stopping you from becoming a cop?" queried Fraser.

Ryan glared at him. "I didn't mean…oh forget it," he snapped and got to his feet. "I'm going for a walk. I take it you guys are gonna be here a while?"

Fraser nodded as Ryan walked off. He glanced down at Diefenbaker. "There's a lot going on in his head," he noted. "I just wish he could be a little more honest with us…and with himself."

Dief barked in agreement.

"I suppose you'd like an unhealthy snack now?" asked Fraser and a delighted Dief yapped excitedly. "Alright, I suppose you deserve a treat," smiled Fraser.

Ray looked round as Fraser and Dief wandered off into the darkness. He knew they'd be back soon, but suddenly, despite being surrounded by people, he felt very alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3.**

"Good morning, Ray."

Ray looked up from his desk as Fraser strode into the squad room and nodded a silent acknowledgement.

"I called the house last night, but Francesca said you were already asleep," continued Fraser as he reached the desk.

"Yeah, I told her I needed an early night," replied Ray, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"I see," Fraser answered. He removed his hat and tugged slowly at his left earlobe. "I take it you were not asleep."

Ray shrugged. "Don't remember hearing the phone," he explained, "but then I don't remember getting a lot of sleep either."

Fraser nodded understandingly. He knew Ray would have spent most of the night thinking about what had happened and whether he could have handled things differently. He also knew Ray would have come to the conclusion that he'd had no choice but to shoot. However, experience told Fraser that didn't really change how you felt.

"Do you think we'll see Ryan this morning?" Fraser pondered.

"Dunno?" Ray answered with a shrug. "Maybe he's grounded?"

"His father sounded rather upset on the telephone," agreed Fraser.

Superintendent Fitzgerald had heard about the incident on the police grapevine before Lieutenant Welsh had had chance to speak to him directly and had called in to the Two Seven himself. Welsh had taken the call in his office and Fraser and Ray had both been called in to speak to the Superintendent to explain their side of the story. To his credit, Fitzgerald had done his best to reassure Ray that the only person in trouble was Ryan. It had been during Fraser's conversation with Fitzgerald that Ryan had, apparently, returned home and the Superintendent had cut the call short.

"Maybe he'll take away his train set? Or stop his allowance?" continued Ray, facetiously.

"Ryan is an adult," Fraser reminded him. "Although I do understand what you're implying."

"That he looks like a fifteen year old and acts like a twelve year old?" Ray queried, rolling his eyes.

"Well I wouldn't go that far."

Ray shrugged again. "OK, if he does show then he's gonna hate what I've got lined up for today," he said. "Until I get my gun back I'm kinda restricted. However, Huey has very kindly invited us along on a stakeout." Ray didn't try to hide the sarcasm in his voice. He hated stakeouts. Usually it meant long hours sitting around playing cards waiting for nothing to happen.

"Sounds like fun, I wasn't sure if you'd have me back."

Ray spun round at the sound of Ryan's voice. The skinny figure stood in the doorway of the squad room with his hands in his pockets. He looked even younger than he had yesterday. His previously smart wardrobe choices replaced with a more casual look of blue jeans and a plain, green t-shirt.

Ray had to almost literally bite his tongue to stop himself yelling and Fraser eyed his friend closely, ready to step in and diffuse the situation.

"Oh don't you worry, kiddo," Ray said in a calm voice as Ryan walked towards them. "We'll have fun. Lots of fun. Although yesterday'll be hard to top."

Ryan hung his head with genuine remorse. "Look, guys, I'm sorry about yesterday," he mumbled to the floor. "I…I thought I could help."

Ray nodded slowly, his nostrils flaring with the effort he was putting into keeping calm. "Yeah, well, thanks, but next time you think you can help, do the world a favour and don't."

"I'm sure Ryan has spent some time reflecting on his actions," said Fraser. "May I suggest we draw a line under the events of yesterday?"

"Sure," agreed Ray. "I'll draw a line. A big fat line in the metaphorical ground and if you cross it, if you even think about crossing it and putting lives in danger I am through with this assignment and Daddy can find you a new babysitter. Got it?" Ray jabbed his finger in Ryan's direction.

"Yes, sir," nodded Ryan.

"Good," Ray smiled glibly at him. "Because here's the thing. Whatever you think you know about being a cop, you can forget it." Suddenly his smile faded. "No one knows what it's like to have that gun in your hand until you're out there on the street with innocent lives at stake. No one."

Fraser tensed as Ray's emotion started to boil over. "Ray, we should probably…" he began, but Ray wasn't listening.

"I don't care who your father is, I don't care if he's the Superintendent, or Superman," Ray continued, waving one hand in front of him as he spoke. "You will never, ever, pull a stunt like that again. Not today, not tomorrow and especially not when you have your shield, because if you do you'll wind up with blood on your hands."

"Ray…" Fraser thought Ray had gone too far. Throughout the whole lecture Ryan had just stared at the floor and Fraser had watched as the pulse in his neck quickened, but now he was looking directly at Ray and his expression was a confusing mix of anger, humiliation and arrogance.

"Don't you think I had all this already from my Dad last night?" he said incredulously. "I don't need you to tell me how much I screwed up yesterday, OK? I don't need any of this."

"Ryan, what Ray is trying to say…" began Fraser, hoping to save the situation, but Ryan cut him off.

"Forget it," snapped the young man. "Jeez, Vecchio, you should have just taken the money."

Ray threw his arms in the air and spun round so his back was towards Ryan. He swung a sideways look at Fraser. "Is he for real?" he asked.

"Perhaps we should head to the break room and enjoy some tea while we wait for Detective Huey to arrive?" Fraser suggested.

"I don't want tea, Fraser," snapped Ray.

"Me neither," Ryan answered. "I said I'm sorry, what more do you want from me? I don't even know why I'm here."

Ray spun round. "You're here because I guess your dad knows you pretty well."

"My dad is a…"

"Oh look, Detective Huey has arrived!" exclaimed Fraser with relief before Ryan could finish whatever insult he had in mind.

Ray scowled at Ryan. This was going to be a long day. Any other day and he would find an excuse not to go, but today he was damn well going to sit through this stakeout purely so he could watch Ryan suffer. For a moment Ray wondered if he was being vindictive. After all, Ryan was young and inexperienced, that was the whole reason his father had wanted him to spend these few days with Ray in the first place. Inexperience notwithstanding Ryan's thoughtless actions could have got him killed, not to mention getting Ray and Fraser killed in the process, or any number of innocent bystanders and Ray couldn't shake the feeling that he was not destined to be a great cop like the rest of his family. The problem was Ryan didn't seem to realise that.

xXxXxXx

"Be careful with that laptop computer, Benny," said Ray as Fraser set up the shiny new piece of equipment in the apartment they were using for the stakeout. It was in a run down building on the wrong side of town, but it was convenient and the landlord could be trusted to keep his mouth shut, for the right fee of course. "You heard Welsh, it cost a small fortune," continued Ray, looking round the sparsely furnished room as Diefenbaker made himself comfortable on a threadbare rug. "Me, I think the budget would have been better spent on good old fashioned typewriters."

"But you hate typewriters," replied Fraser with a frown.

"This is the future, Detective," said Ryan nodding towards the laptop. "Soon everyone will have access to whatever information they need, just by pressing a few keys on a keyboard. You've heard of the World Wide Web, right?"

"Course I have," replied Ray, "But a bunch of spiders are not gonna replace good old fashioned detective work, not in my lifetime."

"Spiders?" repeated Fraser with a frown. "Er, Ray, I think you may have misunderstood…" he trailed off for a second and drew his thumbnail across his left eyebrow.

Ray sneered and rolled his eyes. He decided he would wait a while longer to see if Fraser realised he was joking before explaining it to the confused Mountie. He unpacked two pairs of binoculars from their brown, leather cases and tossed one pair across the room. "Here," he said to Ryan. "Tell me if you see anything suspicious."

Ryan, taken by surprise, barely caught the binoculars, but he tried not to show it. "What am I looking for exactly?" he asked.

"You know, a guy with a fake moustache, woman pushing an empty baby carriage, a sleazebag with shifty eyes…I thought you were the expert?" replied Ray with more than a note of derision in his voice.

"Shifty eyes?" queried Ryan in disbelief. "So we're looking for cartoon bad guys now?"

Ray opened his mouth ready with a retort, but he caught sight of Fraser's look of disappointment and decided to stay quiet. Fraser crossed the room to join Ray as Ryan turned towards the window and pulled back the dusty old curtains to get a better view of the street below.

The Mountie leaned forward and whispered in his friend's ear. "You can tell me to mind my own business if you wish," he began, "but might I suggest we go a little easy on Ryan? An uncomfortable atmosphere could make for a rather long and fractious day otherwise."

Ray let out a slow breath. He knew Fraser was right, but it wasn't going to be easy. "OK, Benny," he agreed in a low voice. "I'll try, but if the kid puts one foot wrong today…" he trailed off and left Fraser to mentally complete his sentence.

"I understand," agreed Fraser with a nod and he went back to the laptop, stopping momentarily to shake his head disappointedly at Dief who had discovered the bag with Huey's supply of snacks and was munching his way through a packet of doughnut holes.

"OK, this is my case, remember?" announced Jack Huey arriving at the apartment with an armful of equipment. "I've been after Macklin for a long time now and we need this evidence."

"Are you sure he's gonna show?" asked Ray. "How much do you trust your snitch?"

Jack shrugged. "He's a snitch, Vecchio. Course I don't trust him, but he's come through for me in the past and I really wanna nail Macklin so I got no choice," he replied.

"What's this guy Macklin supposed to have done?" asked Ryan.

"He's a dealer," explained Jack. "Heroin, mostly, but we got a tip-off that he pulled the trigger on a kid we pulled outta Lake Michigan a couple months back."

"And I assume your informant is not willing to testify in court?" enquired Fraser as he connected a cable from the laptop to the telephone socket.

Jack threw back his head and laughed. "Not in this lifetime," he replied. He pulled out a radio unit from the bag he'd been carrying and switched it on. "Rover One to Rover Two," he said. "Are you receiving?"

"Loud and clear," came the reply and Jack gave his instructions to the other detective who was out in the street.

Finally satisfied that everything was in place, Jack took a seat at the small wooden table which stood in the centre of the apartment. "So, gentlemen," he said. "Standard five card hand, aces low, deuces wild. I'll deal."

xXxXxXx

Three hours later Huey let out a deep chuckle as Ray handed over the last of his matchsticks. "I guess you lost, Vecchio," he said, grinning at Ryan who had been playing with Dief ever since he'd lost the previous hand.

"Nothing new there," replied Ray with a sigh and he stuffed his mouth with a handful of peanuts. His heart had not been into the poker game at all. He knew the reason why, although he hadn't wanted to admit it to himself. "Remember the last time we did this?" he said with his mouth full. "And Gardino filled us in with all the details of his car wreck of a love life." The corners of Ray's mouth flickered into a smile as he remembered the conversation.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember," replied Jack wistfully.

There was a moment's silence as they both thought about their fallen colleague. Eventually Ray spoke. "Hey, Jack," he began softly and he reached across and squeezed Jack's arm. "I'm, er, I'm sorry about Louis."

"Me too," agreed Jack. "But I already told you, you don't have to keep apologising. It could've been any one of us."

"Yeah, but it wasn't, it was your partner," Ray pointed out. "I know we weren't exactly best buddies, but he was a good guy."

Jack nodded sadly, but then the corners of his mouth twitched into a grin. "And sometimes he was a jerk," he noted.

Ray managed a small laugh, he couldn't argue with that.

Ryan had been listening into the conversation and curiosity finally got the better of him. "Um…who's Louis?" he asked tentatively.

"None of your business," snapped Ray and he got up from his chair and crossed to the window. He picked up a pair of binoculars and put them to his eyes, but he wasn't really watching what was going on outside. Fraser, who had been busy piling up the matchsticks ready for another game during the conversation, eyed his friend with concern.

"It's OK," Jack reassured the young man. "Louis was my partner. He was killed a few months ago. Car bomb. In Vecchio's car."

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry," replied Ryan, wishing he hadn't asked. Dief whined and Ryan patted his head.

"It happens," replied Jack dismissively, but he was momentarily unable to say anything else because of the sudden lump in his throat. He swallowed hard and regained his composure enough to add, "You'd better get used to it if you're gonna wear a shield. Makes you a target."

Fraser looked up just as Ryan's face fell. He felt as though he should say something reassuring, but he couldn't think of anything to say that would help. Ryan needed to be prepared for the realities of police work. He seemed to think the job was all about heroics and saving the day, but he was wrong and the sooner he realised it the more chance he had of becoming a good policeman.

"Welsh said something about me getting a new partner," Jack continued. "He's on secondment to some task force or other right now so I won't get to meet him for a few months."

"You ready?" asked Ray seriously. Losing a partner was hard enough, but sometimes getting a new one after losing the previous one in tragic circumstances was harder.

Jack shrugged. "Like I said, I got a few months yet," he replied and Ray nodded understandingly.

"Just as long as the new guy lets me drive we'll get along just fine, I'm sure," added Jack with a laugh.

xXxXxXx

The day drew to a close, just as Ray had suspected, with no sign of Macklin. He did, however, win two hands of poker so that at least improved his mood.

"Anything going on down there?" Huey asked Fraser hopefully as he began to pack away some of the surveillance equipment.

"I'm sorry, Detective, but no," replied Fraser with one final look into the fading daylight of the street outside.

"So how did you enjoy your first stakeout?" Ray asked Ryan as he slipped the playing cards back into their box.

"Um, it was OK, I guess," replied Ryan. "It was cool to see some of this equipment in use. My dad used to bring home all these cases and bags, but we were never allowed to touch it. Too valuable, I guess."

"This equipment was certainly not designed as children's playthings," agreed Fraser.

"Yeah, but he let us play with some stuff," explained Ryan. "Handcuffs, notebooks, that kind of thing. Me and my brother and sister were always playing cops. Never really played anything else."

"Did you always want to emulate your father and join the police?" Fraser asked.

He and Ray expected an immediate answer, but to their surprise Ryan hesitated. "Um…yeah," he replied eventually. "Sure."

Ray glanced at Fraser. Ryan didn't sound at all sure. He could imagine the pressure Ryan must have felt as a young boy growing up with a very successful father. Ray's father, of course, had been quite the opposite and the only pressure Ray had felt as a child was to grow up and be anything but like him. Fraser, on the other hand, had presumably had similar experiences to Ryan. "Fraser's dad was a big deal in the Mounties, right Benny?" he said.

"That's correct," Fraser confirmed. "My father was a successful and well respected member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police for many years and as a boy I wanted to be just like him."

"Big shot, like my dad, was he?" asked Ryan. "I mean, whatever the Canadian equivalent of a Superintendent is.

"Actually my father only reached the rank of Sergeant," explained Fraser. "He was offered several promotions, but turned them down, preferring instead to remain in the field. Neither my father, nor his partner, Sergeant Frobisher, had any interest in the administrative or managerial aspects of police work," he added.

"How much administration or management do you need in the middle of the Great White Territories?" asked Ray rolling his eyes.

"I believe you mean the Northern Territories," said Fraser. "And, well, you may have a point there," he admitted.

"I sometimes wish my dad was still a proper cop," replied Ryan. "He was more fun back then. Now it's all just about paperwork and politics."

"I sure as hell wouldn't want to be the Super," said Ray.

"Don't think you'll ever have to worry about that, Vecchio," chuckled Jack and Ray shot him a sneer.

"Are we done here?" asked Ray. "As much as I've enjoyed your company, gentlemen, I'm planning on watching the Bulls slaughter the Hawks tonight from the comfort of my couch."

"Hope you didn't put any matchsticks on that result," replied Huey, dryly. "Thanks for the company today," he added graciously. "See you back at the station." He picked up two large cases and left the apartment.

"You got the key, Fraser?" Ray asked as he gathered up the last of the bags.

"Right here, Ray," replied Fraser and he threw it across to Ray's outstretched hand.

Ryan switched off the light as they left and Ray locked the door before they headed for the stairwell with Diefenbaker bounding ahead.

"He's eaten far too much sugar today," sighed Fraser, but then he fell silent and stopped dead in his tracks.

"What is it, Benny?" asked Ray, suddenly on alert. He recognised the expression on his friend's face and it usually meant trouble. "Is it Macklin?"

"I don't believe so," replied Fraser with a frown. He walked down a few more steps and stopped again. "There," he announced.

This time Ray and Ryan could hear it too, raised voiced coming from one of the apartments. One was clearly a man's voice, although the other was much quieter and Ray could not tell if it was a man or a woman. Fraser jumped down the last two steps and began to walk along the corridor towards the noise, but Ray didn't move.

"Leave it, Fraser," he pleaded. "It's probably a lover's quarrel. None of our business."

Just then there was a crash and a scream and Fraser spun round to look at Ray. "Someone could be in trouble," he announced. "We can't ignore it."

"Yes we can," replied Ray and he carried on walking down the stairs, but he'd only taken three more steps when there was another scream. Ray stopped walking and let out a growl of frustration. "OK, OK," he said. "We'll check it out, but I'm unarmed, remember."

"So am I, Ray," Fraser reminded him as they quickened their pace towards the door of the apartment in question.

Ray glanced over his shoulder at Ryan. "You, stay here," he snapped and Ryan nodded. "I mean it," Ray reiterated. "This is probably nothing, but Canadians have a funny habit of finding trouble, so stay back, just in case."

There was another scream and what sounded like a heavy object falling to the floor.

"Ray," urged Fraser.

Ray took a deep breath and pounded his fist on the door. "Chicago PD!" he yelled over the noise coming from inside the apartment. "Open up!"

Almost immediately the door opened and a stocky, unshaven man stood in front of them wearing a string vest and grey tracksuit trousers. "Cops again?" he snapped. "Leave me alone. I told you before, I don't touch drugs."

Fraser tried to see past the man into the apartment, but his sheer bulk was filling most of the doorway.

"This ain't about drugs," said Ray. "We had a report of a disturbance," he lied. "Mind if we come in? No? Good."

Before the man had chance to answer, Ray and Fraser pushed past him into the apartment. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and Fraser almost choked on the first lungful he inhaled.

"Hey, you can't come in here without a warrant!" exclaimed the man, almost tripping over the remains of a pile of books and magazines which lay strewn across the floor.

Fraser looked round the room. The first thing he noticed, apart from the mess, was the television set whichnhad been tipped forward onto the floor, scattering broken glass everywhere. "Did you have an accident, sir?" he asked.

"Yeah," replied the man, sarcastically. "I was dusting it and it fell over."

"Do a lot of housework, do you?" asked Ray, wiping a finger over the filthy surface of the coffee table he was standing next to and showing Fraser the results.

"Is dust a crime now?" asked the man. Then he noticed Diefenbaker and watched him for a second as the wolf sniffed around. "Hey! Get him outta here!" he yelled and lunged towards Dief.

Fraser grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Not so fast, sir," he said. "I believe my wolf has found something."

"I told you, there's no drugs here," snapped the man, struggling to free himself from Fraser's strong grasp. Dief scratched at a door and began barking loudly.

"Ray, would you mind?" said Fraser urgently and Ray stepped forward to take control of the man while Fraser ran over to Dief. "What is it?" he asked the wolf.

Dief barked again and Fraser reached for the door handle.

"No!" yelled the man and suddenly jerked himself free of Ray's clutches, before swinging his body round and aiming a punch squarely at Ray. Ray ducked, but it wasn't enough and the man's fist connected with his jaw. Ray reeled back as the man launched another punch, but this time his aim was off and the punch left a dent in the wall.

Fraser spun round ready to help, but Ray didn't need it. He quickly stuck out his leg and the man tripped and fell to the floor with a yell. Before he could think about getting up Ray was beside him, pinning him down with a knee in the small of his back as he snapped handcuffs around his wrists.

"You're under arrest for assaulting a police officer," Ray announced almost gleefully and he read the man his rights.

"You stay outta there!" the man yelled at Fraser, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was now fully restrained.

"Something to hide?" asked Ray. "Huh? What's in that room?"

Fraser didn't wait for an answer. He opened the door, only to be met with a scream. He stopped in the doorway and held Dief back with his hand as he surveyed the scene. There was a single bed pushed against the back wall and curled up in the centre of the bed on top of the blankets was a figure dressed in pink shorts and a yellow t-shirt.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," said Fraser gently. At first he thought it was a young girl, but as the figure slowly unfurled to reveal a more recognisable human form he realised that she was a grown woman in her late twenties. She was small and slim with mid length brown hair which had been scruffily pulled back with an elastic. Her face was streaked with blood and her bare legs bore bruises in a variety of shades of purple. She stared at him with wide eyes, but said nothing.

"You're safe now," continued Fraser, but instead of expressing gratitude the woman shook her head.

"You have no idea what you've done," she half whispered.

Fraser turned to call out to Ray. "There's a woman in here, she's hurt," he said. His face was etched with concern and he stepped forward with his hand outstretched. "We can protect you," he said. "We are police officers."

The woman refused take his hand and instead she simply curled herself back up into a ball.

Fraser looked down at Dief sadly. He knew they couldn't force her to accept their help. Judging by the state of her Fraser knew this wasn't the first occurrence of violence she had experienced and if she were to stay here she would no doubt be subjected to more. The assault charge against the man would only lead to a fine at most, if indeed the State's Attorney's office decided to prosecute and then he would be free to continue where he left off with her until he either got bored or killed her. It was a pattern they'd seen too many times, but without the woman's cooperation they were powerless to do anything to stop it happening to her.

"You should let them help you."

Fraser spun round at the sound of Ryan's voice.

"What the he'll are you playing at?" Ray yelled at the young man as he strode into the apartment. His prisoner took the opportunity to attempt to break free, but Ray was not about to let him go that easily. "Hey!" he yelled. "Don't make me set the wolf on you."

Fraser picked up on the cue and ushered Diefenbaker in Ray's direction. Then he turned to Ryan who now stood in the doorway of the bedroom. "I believe we gave you specific instructions to wait outside," he said.

"I know you did," agreed Ryan. "But I can help." He nodded towards the trembling bundle on the bed that was the woman. "Let me talk to her."

Fraser was momentarily dumbstruck.

"Listen," said Ryan, addressing the woman now. "These guys are telling the truth. They can help you."

"Ryan, please, this is a delicate situation," said Fraser quietly, turning his head away from the woman as he spoke. "Saying the wrong thing at this juncture could jeopardise her safety, not to mention her emotional well- being." He lowered his voice even more with his last words.

"I know what to say," insisted Ryan.

Fraser bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep himself calm. "With respect," he began. "This situation requires knowledge way beyond that which can be obtained from a text book."

"I know," replied Ryan. "I'm not an idiot. I know what to do...I know what to say, because...because I've lived through this."


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4.**

"How is Mona?" Fraser looked up as Ray walked back into the squad room.

"Doc's with her now," replied Ray with a heavy sigh. "And Welsh doesn't want me anywhere near that lowlife bastard of a husband of hers. He's handed the case to Huey."

Fraser nodded. He understood the Lieutenant's reasons. Ray was better off as far away from domestic violence cases as possible. Fraser wasn't sure how much Welsh knew about Ray's father, but years behind a desk hadn't dulled his detective skills so Fraser assumed he had figured most of it out for himself.

"I don't suppose you've seen Ryan, have you?" asked Fraser. "He went to use the restroom and has not yet returned. I was just about to go searching for him."

Ray shook his head. "Haven't seen him," he replied. "We should talk to him, though. He was great with the victim. I never saw any of that coming ."

"Neither did I," admitted Fraser. "The victim was comforted and reassured by his words. He seemed to be highly knowledgeable about the right things to say in such circumstances."

"That's what worries me," replied Ray. "What did he mean when he said he'd lived through it?"

"I'm not sure," replied Fraser. "It may have been a rouse designed to put the victim at ease."

"So maybe the domestic abuse chapters in the training manual are his favourite?" shrugged Ray. "But he's not mentioned a girlfriend," he noted, lowering his voice slightly. "Could be he's got a tale or two to tell?"

Fraser let out a slow breath as he pondered Ray's words. He'd already considered the possibility that Ryan had first-hand experience of relationship abuse, simply because of the manner in which he dealt with their victim. He nodded and slowly moistened his lower lip with his tongue. "We need to find him," he said with sudden urgency and he quickly picked up his hat and headed out into the corridor with Ray and Diefenbaker following close behind.

They searched the whole station, but no one had seen Ryan.

"I should have kept a closer eye on him," said Fraser, his voice tinged with guilt. "I should have realised how badly affected he was by the experience."

"We don't know for sure that he's freaked out, Benny," replied Ray encouragingly as they walked out of the station and towards the car. "Maybe he just wanted a Big Mac and fries? Or he decided to catch the late night movie?"

"Possibly," agreed Fraser. He didn't need to voice any further concerns, Ray was already having the same thoughts.

Earlier that evening they'd stood back and watched as Ryan had calmed Mona - the terrified girlfriend of the thug who was thankfully now sitting in a jail cell - and eventually persuaded her to accept help. He'd dealt with the situation in a remarkably mature way which was surprising not only because of his young age, but because it was completely at odds with the immature behaviour they had experienced from him so far. Ray and Fraser both now accepted the possibility that he had drawn on personal experience.

They drove around the city searching for Ryan. The later it got the more Ray expected a call from Welsh to tell him Fitzgerald was asking where his son had got to, but thankfully the phone stayed silent. They searched anywhere they could think of, but quickly realised they knew very little about the young man, certainly not enough to know where he might be.

"When I was his age and I wanted to disappear I'd head for a bar," said Ray after over an hour of searching.

"But he is underage," Fraser pointed out as Ray parked the Riv by the side of the road.

"Then we'll start with the bars who don't care," shrugged Ray. "Which is only…let me think…oh, I know…most of them!"

Fraser frowned and followed Ray into the first bar they came to. No one had seen Ryan – at least no one admitted to seeing him – so they left and tried another bar.

"When I was young and I didn't want to be found I would often go to a small cave," Fraser explained as they walked.

"OK, we'll try the caves next," sneered Ray sarcastically.

"Local Inuit legend had it that the cave was haunted by the ghost of a young girl who had drowned in the river," Fraser continued, ignoring Ray's gibe. "So I knew I would be left alone."

"Ever see the ghost?" asked Ray.

Before Fraser could answer, Ray's phone rang. It was the call he'd been dreading. Ray stopped and leaned against a wall to answer it.

"Yes, sir…yes." Ray covered the phone with his hand and mouthed 'Welsh' to Fraser, as if his friend needed any clarification. "Yes, you can tell Fitzgerald he's right here with us," he lied to the Lieutenant.

Fraser's eyes widened at Ray's words.

"Er, stakeout," continued Ray. "That's right, another stakeout, sir…impromptu stakeout. You know how it is, sir."

Fraser frowned as Ray embellished the story further. Finally Ray snapped his phone shut and let out a long slow breath. He looked at Fraser and saw the disapproving look on the Mountie's face. Ray rubbed his forehead with his hand and braced himself for a lecture. "Don't," he said.

"Don't what, exactly, Ray?"

"What did you want me to tell him?"

"The truth, perhaps?" suggested Fraser, drawing his thumbnail across his eyebrow.

Ray threw his hands in the air. "Oh, sure," he replied scornfully. "I shoulda just told him we'd lost the Superintendent's son. No idea where he is, could be lying dead in a gutter somewhere for all we know."

"Now you're over dramatising the situation, Ray," replied Fraser. "Ryan is an adult with free will. We have not lost him, the likelihood is he simply does not wish to be found at the present time. However, I am not terribly comfortable with lying to the Lieutenant."

"Relax, Benny," Ray answered. "I'm the one doing the lying, not you."

"I am complicit by association," Fraser pointed out. "And the problem with lying is that the truth usually finds a way of coming out. What if Ryan is on his way back to the station as we speak? Or on his way home?"

Ray closed his eyes. He hadn't thought it through, he'd just panicked and blurted out the first story that had come into his head. He opened his eyes and looked at Fraser with determination. "Then we'd better find him first," he concluded and set off along the street.

They tried two more bars in the area with no success and were about to try another when Ray's phone rang again. "This is it, Benny," he said despondently, assuming it would be Welsh on the end of the line asking why Ryan had just walked into the station knowing nothing about an impromptu stakeout. "Bye bye career," he added before taking a deep breath and answering the call. "Sir, I can explain…oh, hi Ernie."

Ernie was one of the barmen they'd spoken to a little while earlier. He'd told them he had not seen Ryan all evening, but Ray had left his card so perhaps now the man had some news for them. Fraser hoped it was good news.

After a very brief conversation, Ray closed his phone. "He's at Ernie's," he said. "Come on."

They turned and ran the three blocks back to the bar and were greeted at the door by Ernie, a short, stocky man with tattoos adorning his biceps. "I'm guessing this is the kid you're looking for," he said, leading Ray and Fraser into the bar. The establishment had closed already and the customers were long gone. Two of Ernie's staff were busy cleaning tables and they acknowledged the two visitors as they walked past.

Ernie led them to a table in the corner and as they got closer they could see Ryan slumped motionless over it.

"Geez, Ernie, he's underage!" exclaimed Ray realising quickly that Ryan was drunk.

"Hey, he didn't get served in my bar," replied Ernie indignantly. "Found him outside like this when I took out the trash."

Fraser sat down next to Ryan and shook his shoulder, trying to rouse him. Ryan's head was resting in his hands and he let out a barely audible grunt, but made no other move. "Ryan, Ryan, it's Fraser," he said. The stench of alcohol on his breath was almost overwhelming to Fraser, but it enabled him to estimate how much he had drunk. "He needs to sleep this off," he said. "It's going to be several hours before he comes round. We should take him home."

"What!" exclaimed Ray. "Have you OD'd on pemmican again? We can't take him home like this! His Dad'll go crazy!"

"Vecchio has a point," noted Ernie. "Last place any kid in this state needs to be is anywhere near his old man."

"Perhaps we should take him to the hospital?" suggested Fraser, attempting to prise open Ryan's left eye to gauge his pupil reflex. "With the amount of alcohol he has consumed there are always health implications to consider."

"No," replied Ray, shaking his head. "He's just a kid who's had too much to drink. Happens all the time. He'll be fine when he wakes up."

"Apart from the hangover from hell," added Ernie.

"Shut up and let me think," said Ray and he began pacing. "Welsh and Fitzgerald already think he's on a stakeout with us, so we'll just tell 'em it turned into an all-nighter."

"The Lieutenant will want details, Ray," Fraser pointed out.

"Details, schmetails," dismissed Ray. "I'll think of something. Now, Frannie's got some kind of party at our place tonight, or we could have taken him there."

"We'll take him to my place," said Fraser and he draped Ryan's arm around his shoulder and hauled him to his feet.

"You really know how to punish a kid," retorted Ray. "Thanks, Ernie," he added with a nod to the barman. "I owe you one."

"I'll add it to all the other ones you owe me," grinned Ernie.

xXxXxXx

"Help me get him onto the bed," said Fraser as they half carried, half dragged Ryan into his apartment. They carefully lowered him onto Fraser's bed and Ray breathed a sigh of relief.

 _That was the easy part…_

"We should get him outta these stinky clothes," he noted.

Ryan had come round in the back of the Riv just long enough to vomit, before passing out again so combined with the stench of cheap beer the smell was overpowering even Ray's senses. And he didn't even want to think about the state of his upholstery.

"I'll find some sweats," replied Fraser. "And don't worry about your upholstery," he added as if he'd read his friend's mind. "A solution of two parts vinegar to one part olive oil should do the trick. I'll see to it."

"Thanks," replied Ray as Fraser went to find Ryan a change of clothes. He wasn't sure if he trusted Fraser with his upholstery and he was even less sure that he wanted his Riv to smell of vinegar.

 _Better than the smell of vomit, I guess…_

Ray glanced over at Diefenbaker who was under the table with his paws over his snout and wished he could join the wolf. Instead he steeled himself and turned back to Ryan. Undressing him wasn't easy, but eventually Ray managed to get his t-shirt off over his head. He was just about to undo the young man's belt, when he noticed something and stopped.

"Fraser!" he yelled. "You better see this." Ray stood up and took a step away from the bed, folding his arms across his chest as if he needed to protect himself.

"What is it?" asked Fraser, immediately concerned by the urgency in Ray's tone of voice. He put down the neatly folded, grey RCMP sweatshirt and sweatpants he'd been carrying and looked down at Ryan. "Oh dear," he said when he saw what Ray had seen.

Ryan's torso was covered in bruises. Fraser glanced at Ray with concern. "I need more light," he said. They had only turned on the table lamp, deciding a dim glow would be less disturbing for Ryan, but now Ray quickly walked over to the main switch, flicking it on to flood the room with the harsh light of a hundred watt bulb.

Fraser sat on the edge of his bed and examined Ryan's chest and abdomen. "This is no more than three hours old," he said, gently palpating a particularly large, dark bruise on Ryan's left side. "And these too," he added, checking two more that were further around his lower abdomen. "These are older," he continued, running his hand over a collection of purple shapes which adorned his left shoulder and chest. "These are older still."

"Jesus," Ray muttered half under his breath. They really needed to know where Ryan had been and what trouble he was in.

"And…" Fraser began, but he trailed off and Ray watched as he ran his thumbs up and down Ryan's ribs.

"Looks like he could do with a few of Ma's lasagnes," Ray noted as Fraser brushed across the young man's protruding ribs. Ray didn't carry a lot of meat on his own bones, but Ryan looked positively malnourished. "What is it?" he asked when Fraser remained silent.

"These three ribs are out of alignment by approximately two degrees," Fraser explained, indicating towards the right side of Ryan's chest. "They were broken. Healed now, but this was a recent injury, perhaps no more than eight weeks ago."

"So we were right," sighed Ray. "He knew what Mona was going through because he's been through it. Still going through it, by the looks of it. The ex-girlfriend must really have it in for him, or…" he trailed off, a thousand thoughts dancing through his head.

Fraser was about to add his own thoughts, when he realised Ray's face had gone very pale. "What is it?" he asked with concern.

"Dear old Daddy," sneered Ray.

"I don't understand."

"Come on, Benny," snapped Ray. "This has nothing to do with his love life. Think about it. His father is the Superintendent. He's meant to be a great cop just like his siblings, but instead he's a jerk with an attitude problem. This kid is not going to make a great cop, Benny. You know it, I know it and you can be damned sure his Pa knows it too. What a disappointment he's turned out to be, huh? A big, fat let-down. Embarrassment to the family, right?"

"You're suggesting that Ryan's father has done this?" Fraser couldn't quite believe what Ray was saying. "That Superintendent Fitzgerald has been systematically beating his own son?"

"Yes, Fraser," agreed Ray. "That's exactly what I'm saying." Ray turned and walked away from the scene. He couldn't bear to look at Ryan any longer. A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him and he grabbed a glass from the kitchen and filled it with water from the tap.

Fraser looked over at his friend as he drank the water, emptying the glass without stopping for breath and he knew Ray was struggling with his emotions. Fraser quickly changed Ryan's clothes and covered him with a blanket. Then he walked over to join Ray who was staring out of the window into the dark street below.

"Are you alright?" he asked, gingerly.

"Sure," lied Ray. "Just a little thirsty, that's all."

Fraser hesitated before speaking again. "Ray, I know your own childhood wasn't easy…"

"This isn't about me," snapped Ray, spinning round to face his friend. "I wasn't an abused kid. My dad was just a violent drunk, that's different."

Fraser said nothing.

"OK, OK, so on paper I was an abused kid," Ray admitted, feeling a little lightheaded. "But not like this." He looked past Fraser back over to the sleeping figure on the bed. "Pa never broke any ribs! He was a lousy father, I'll give you that, but the occasional clip round the ear is nothing. My chest never looked like a patchwork quilt."

Fraser didn't know how to respond. He knew that Ray was downplaying the level of violence he had experienced at home, but it was Ray's prerogative to keep the details to himself. However, his judgement was being clouded regarding Ryan and Fraser had to stop him before he did something he'd regret.

"Ray, listen to me for a moment," he began. He guided Ray towards the table by his shoulder and pulled out a chair for him to sit on.

Ray sat down, ready to fight his corner. "OK, I'm listening, Benny, but if this is going to be an Inuit story then save your breath." He knew he was right about this, he just knew it.

Fraser sat in the chair opposite his friend. "Ray, we don't know who inflicted those injuries," he said. "Until we speak to Ryan, we cannot jump to conclusions."

"I know, Benny," replied Ray. "Don't ask me how I know, I just do."

"Sometimes it's not easy to separate our own personal feelings from police work," continued Fraser. "There are things from my past, events which…what I'm trying to say is…what I'm trying to say…"

"What you're trying to say is that every time there's a woman with long dark hair involved you assume she's guilty," Ray interrupted.

Fraser fell silent. Ray was right, of course. Every day he had to fight with his own emotions to keep thoughts of Victoria at bay, but sometimes the memories would threaten to defy all logic. "Well, I…"

"It's OK, you don't have to talk about her," replied Ray sympathetically.

"We weren't talking about me, we were talking about you," Fraser pointed out.

Ray sighed. "OK, OK, here's what we do," he said. "We'll talk to Ryan in the morning, but even if he denies it all we should still talk to Fitzgerald."

"You want to interview the Superintendent about abusing his son?" queried Fraser.

"Not interview, Benny, just chat," Ray explained. "We just go see him, talk about Ryan and see if he takes the bait."

"He is the highest ranking police officer in Chicago," Fraser reminded him. "Assuming he is guilty –and of course we must not make any such assumption – but assuming he is, he is not going to fall for such a rouse."

"Yeah, well if that doesn't work we'll find some other way to smoke him out," replied Ray. "But we'll nail the sonofabitch somehow."

Fraser sighed. He could see he was not going to get through to Ray tonight. "May I suggest you go home and get some sleep?" he said. "Perhaps you'll be able to see more clearly in the morning."

Ray shrugged. "I can see things pretty clearly already, Benny," he replied. "But some shut-eye wouldn't go amiss. I guess I'll see you in the morning." He got up and walked over to the door. "Sure you're gonna be OK here?" he asked, glancing across to the bed once more.

"We'll be alright, thank you, Ray," replied Fraser. "And Ray, please try to keep an open mind until we have carried out some preliminary investigations," he added.

Ray nodded. "Don't worry, Benny," he said. "I'm not gonna do anything stupid. There's still my career to think about."

"Indeed," nodded Fraser. "And take it from me, your compatriots will not take kindly to your bringing down of such a senior figure, if it should come to that."

Ray grinned ruefully. "Maybe I'll get transferred to the US Consulate in Outer Freezerland," he said.

"It's quite possible," noted Fraser.

"It'll be worth it to see that bastard behind bars," added Ray and he walked down the hall.

Fraser closed the door and sighed. He glanced at Ryan. "Oh dear," he muttered to himself. This wasn't going to be easy.

xXxXxXx

Fraser spent the night in a chair next to the bed just in case Ryan needed him, but Ryan did not wake until just after six by which time Fraser was already making Dief's breakfast. He opened his eyes, blinked twice and groaned.

"Good morning," said Fraser, keeping his voice low as he walked over to the bed carrying a glass of water. "How is your head?"

Ryan groaned again.

"Dehydration is your worse enemy at this stage," Fraser explained. "You need to drink this."

Ryan took one look at the glass of water and turned his head away.

"Just small sips to start with," Fraser continued. "I promise you, it will help."

"This isn't my first hangover you know," Ryan mumbled.

"Well I'll just leave this here," said Fraser, placing the water on his father's old trunk next to the bed.

Ryan sighed and rolled over as Fraser turned to walk back towards the kitchen area. He blinked hard and tried to take in his surroundings. "Where the hell am I?" he asked, wishing his voice didn't sound like he'd been chewing gravel.

"This is my apartment," Fraser explained.

"You…you live like this?" asked Ryan.

"Yes," replied Fraser turning back just in time to see Ryan attempting to sit himself up. "Slowly!" Fraser urged, rushing back over to help him.

Ryan grabbed his arm gratefully and tried to steady himself. His head was spinning and he desperately fought against the nausea.

"Here," said Fraser, offering the water to his lips.

Ryan didn't have the strength to argue any more so he sipped at the water. The cool sensation of the water slipping down his throat was at least something new to focus on.

"Easy, take it easy," said Fraser, pulling the water away from him. "Catch your breath."

Ryan took two long breaths and finally the dizziness started to ease.

"Do you remember anything about last night?" Fraser asked.

"Yeah, I bought a couple six-packs and got rat-assed," he growled.

Fraser nodded. Perhaps the alcohol had numbed Ryan's senses enough that he had completely forgotten about being in any kind of fight. Now was not the time to question him about his injuries, but they needed to know soon.

"Why am I here?" asked Ryan laying himself back on the pillow.

"Ray and I thought it prudent that your father was kept in the dark concerning your condition," Fraser explained."

"You covered for me?" Ryan queried in surprise. "Oh, er…thanks." Then he looked down at himself and screwed his face up as he tried to remember something about the previous night. Anything at all that might clear his head. "Why am I wearing these?" he asked.

"Ah, well, I'm afraid your own clothes were somewhat soiled," Fraser replied. "You are welcome to keep those as long as you wish," he added.

"No thanks, I don't want to look like a dork any longer than I have to," he replied ungratefully.

"As you wish," Fraser answered, returning to the kitchen. "I laundered your clothes for you, they should be dry shortly. Can I interest you in any breakfast? You need to intake vitamins and minerals, may I suggest vegetable soup."

Ryan clamped his hand over his mouth at the thought of eating anything, let alone soup.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry," said Fraser. "Nourishment can wait a little longer. If you'd like to freshen up I can show you to the bathroom?"

Ryan did not reply and instead he closed his eyes again.

"Right you are," said Fraser. "We can do that later too."

Ryan drifted in and out of sleep for the next hour while Fraser busied himself around his apartment. Fortunately, Inspector Thatcher wasn't expecting him at the Consulate this morning so that was one less thing to worry about.

It wasn't long before there was a knock at the door. Fraser opened it and Ray marched into the apartment. "Is he awake?" he snapped. "Oh, morning, Benny."

"Good morning, Ray," replied Fraser. "Ryan is still feeling under the weather," he explained.

"Did you talk to him yet?" asked Ray. "Did he tell you what happened?"

"I'm afraid the opportunity has not yet presented itself," Fraser replied.

Ray rolled his eyes and spun round on his heels.

"Hey, Ryan," he said, louder than was necessary. "How's the head?"

Ryan opened his eyes and scowled at Ray. "Can't we just skip this part and go straight to the part where my dad yells at me?" he asked.

Ray caught his breath and glanced back at Fraser, but the Mountie shook his head as a warning. What Ryan had said in no way indicated his father was abusive. They needed to tread very carefully if they were going to gain Ryan's trust.

"Sorry, no can do," replied Ray, settling himself on the edge of the bed. "You ran out on us yesterday, right after we brought in that bastard who mistook his girlfriend for a punchbag. I guess I should be thanking you for your help with that, by the way."

Ryan shrugged. "From where I was standing you needed back-up," he retorted. "Good thing I was there."

Ray's nostrils flared. "OK, listen up," he said. "I put my neck on the line for you last night. I covered your ungrateful little ass so now you're gonna quit the crap and we're gonna have a serious talk."

"Ray…" Fraser warned, but Ray was having none of it and he waved his hand dismissively at the Mountie.

"We saw what he did to you," continued Ray. "We saw all those bruises and the cracked ribs. Now why don't you tell us what really happened."

Ryan turned away in shame. "It's just some dumb guys I know, it's nothing I can't handle," he replied.

"We understand," said Fraser.

"No we don't!" exclaimed Ray. "What is it with you? I'm trying to help you!"

"If you want to help me then don't say anything to my dad, OK?" replied Ryan. "Please," he added, quietly.

"We promise," replied Fraser.

"No we don't!" exclaimed Ray for the second time, scowling at Fraser. "And since when did you get to speak for the both of us?"

"I'm terribly sorry, Ray," replied Fraser. "But we have to respect Ryan's wishes."

Ray seemed unconvinced.

Fraser sat on the end of the bed and spoke to Ryan. "So, last night after you left the station you got into an altercation?" he asked.

"Is this an interrogation?" asked Ryan with a sneer.

"No, I'm merely trying to establish some facts," replied Fraser. "And Ray is correct, we'd like to help if we can."

"You can help by getting my dad off my case," answered Ryan.

"Does he get real mad at you?" asked Ray, deliberately avoiding making eye contact with Fraser. "How mad does he get?"

"Mad enough," replied Ryan with a puzzled frown. "Why do you think I hit the booze? It's easier than trying to talk to him. He never listens to me anyway."

"Is there something specific you'd like to discuss with your father?" asked Fraser.

"Yeah," said Ryan. "Sure is, but what's the point?"

"That depends," replied Fraser. "Are you afraid of what he might say? Or…or what he might do?"

Ryan shrugged. "He only thinks about himself," he said. "And his precious reputation. Jesus, if people knew what he was really like…" he trailed off.

"You mean, if they knew he hit you?" Ray asked suddenly.

Ryan rolled over suddenly to face Ray. "No!" he exclaimed. "That's the second time you've said that. What the hell are you talking about?"

"The bruises, we saw what he did to you," Ray snapped. Immediately he regretted allowing his frustration to show. He rubbed his hand over his forehead and sighed. "Listen," he said, his voice much calmer now. "I get it. He's your father, you care about him, but what he's doing is wrong. You don't have to take it anymore."

"My Dad has never laid a finger on me, OK? Now drop it, will you?" Ryan let out a long, slow breath. "You have no idea what it's like to be the son of the greatest cop that ever lived," he said quietly. "It sucks."

"So he doesn't hit you?" Ray asked, still unconvinced.

"No! I told you, it's just these jerks," replied Ryan. "Although I guess there's a first time for everything," he added, closing his eyes.

"What do you mean?" asked Ray, glancing at Fraser.

"I mean he could totally lose it and punch my lights out when I tell him…" he trailed off.

"About getting into fights?" asked Fraser.

"No, dumbass!" retorted Ryan. "When I tell him I don't want to be a cop!"


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5.**

"That kid is sure as hell full of surprises."

Fraser nodded at Ray's words. "I admit I was rather taken aback myself," he replied.

"I just don't get it," said Ray, scratching his head. "I mean, for someone who doesn't want to be a cop he's pretty good at the Hill Street Blues routine. Do you think it's all for his Dad's benefit?"

"It's pointless to speculate at this juncture," replied Fraser as he stood at the sink rinsing out a cloth.

"Thanks for cleaning up in my car," said Ray. "Guess the mayonnaise did the trick."

"It was no trouble…although it wasn't mayonnaise, for future reference," replied Fraser. "Besides," he added, glancing across at his bed. "As much as I'd like to talk to Ryan some more, I believe it's best that we allow him to sleep for now."

"Yeah," agreed Ray. "He was pretty wasted last night. Must feel like a bag of warmed up manure with spikes in it this morning. I'm telling you, Benny, it ain't fun."

Fraser shrugged at Ray's colourful metaphor. He had never been drunk himself, so he could not disagree with the description.

"I've only been that bad a couple times," continued Ray, looking down at the floor. He paused and sighed sadly before adding, "Night Ange left and…and the day after…after Irene…" He sniffed and looked up as Fraser turned round to face him.

"I'm sorry, Ray," he said, sincerely.

Ray nodded and the two friends were silent for a moment as they thought about what had happened to Irene Zuko. Eventually Ray shrugged off the maudlin moment. "Dumbest thing is it doesn't help," he said. "The grog, I mean. For a few hours you forget, I guess, but then you remember all over again only this time you're fighting to hold onto your breakfast at the same time."

Just then Diefenbaker, who had been lazing in front of the window enjoying the early morning sun, jumped up and ran across to the bed. Fraser followed him to find that Ryan was awake again.

"How do you feel now?" asked Fraser as Ryan slowly sat himself up.

"Better, I guess," replied Ryan with a shrug.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Fraser.

"Um, look, I don't remember much about last night," began Ryan sheepishly as Ray walked over to join them. "But, er, I guess I owe you guys. And, um, I'm sorry, OK?"

Ray nodded. "What about puking in my car?" he asked with a glare.

"I did that?" Ryan queried, looking to Fraser for confirmation.

"I'm afraid so," replied Fraser and Ryan looked embarrassed.

"Guess I have a lot to make up for," he said, quietly. "So, what're we doing? Any good leads to follow up today?"

Fraser and Ray looked at each other, slightly puzzled.

"We, er, we weren't sure if you were gonna be riding with us today," Ray explained, perching on the edge of Fraser's father's trunk. "Not after what you said earlier."

"Oh, that," Ryan answered, reaching out for his water. He took a few sips before carrying on. "Look, truth is I don't know what I want to do."

Fraser sat down on the foot of the bed and looked at the young man with concern. "Ryan, in just a few short weeks you are due to enter the Police Academy. If you are unsure about your career choice now might be a good time to speak up."

"Choice?" retorted Ryan. "When did I ever get a choice? This is my life, it always has been. I've never known anything different. I was always gonna be a cop, for as long as I can remember. Except no one ever bothered to ask me if it was what I wanted. I didn't even realise until a couple years ago that maybe it wasn't what I wanted anyway."

"Have you talked to your father about this?" asked Fraser.

"Yeah, sure and he's totally cool about it," Ryan replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "No of course I haven't told him. He'd freak out."

"Does he freak out a lot?" asked Ray. "I mean, does he, er, take stuff out on you?"

"If you're asking if he hits me again, then no," replied Ryan. "You said that before, what is it with you?"

"Hey, just looking out for you, that's all," shrugged Ray.

"Well my Dad is not like that," Ryan tried to explain. "He's a good man, he deserves all the success he's had, he really does, it's just…" He trailed off and sipped at his water again.

"I imagine being the Superintendent is not easy," said Fraser empathetically. "I certainly wouldn't want to take on that kind of role, not for all the tea in China."

"Thought you liked tea," said Ray quickly, with a wink.

"Some days he's like a different person," began Ryan, his voice much quieter now. "He feels responsible for everything, I guess. So when things go wrong he finds it tough to cope with the pressure."

"And how do the rest of your family cope?" asked Fraser.

"By telling me I wouldn't understand 'coz I'm just a kid," replied Ryan. "They're all big shot cops and I'm just a jerk."

"Is that what they say?" asked Ray glancing at Fraser. If that was the kind of attitude he had to face at home no wonder Ryan was like he is, Ray thought to himself.

"They don't have to say it," shrugged Ryan. "But it's true. I'm never gonna make the big time like them, so I guess I'll just get through the Academy and spend the rest of my life as a traffic cop."

Fraser swallowed hard and rubbed at his left eyebrow with his thumbnail. He felt desperately sorry for Ryan. It was becoming clear just why he acted the way he did. Fraser had grown up knowing his own father was one of the most well respected Mounties in Canada and as a child he had felt driven to achieve exactly what his father had. Not to prove himself to his father, that wasn't the reason, but it was partly to honour him and his achievements. Young Benton Fraser had always felt that if he could grow up to be even half the Mountie his father was he would have achieved something, but he was trying to live up to a legend. Perhaps if his father had been around more, had been more of a father to him, he would have felt differently?

Ryan had grown up surrounded by success and the drive to succeed. What his father and the rest of his family had seemingly failed to understand is that Ryan may not share the same goals.

"Would you like me to talk to your father for you?" asked Fraser. He wanted to help, but he wasn't sure what to do for the best.

"Geez, no!" exclaimed Ryan. "I don't need you to fight my battles for me, OK? Listen, it's no big deal. I know I can ace it through the Academy. Doesn't mean I'm gonna be a great cop, I know that, but at least it'll get my Dad off my case for a while."

"Then what?" asked Ray. "You're gonna get yourself killed if you go out on the streets with that attitude. From what we've seen you've come pretty close a few times already."

Ryan let out a slow breath. "Just drop it, will you? I told you, it's nothing I can't handle."

"Perhaps we can help?" Fraser offered. "Does it have something to do with why you keep disappearing?"

Ryan just shrugged.

"OK, kid, this is our last offer," said Ray, beginning to lose his temper. "You can do a Harry Houdini on us today if you want to. We won't say anything to your Dad and you can waste your life on something your heart isn't in if you want. That's your choice. Or you can tell us what the hell is really going on. You have five seconds to decide, because there are lowlifes out there just waiting for me to haul their asses off to jail and they won't wait all day. Five…four…"

"Ray…" said Fraser with a frown. The last thing Ryan needed right now was more pressure.

"Three…two…"

"OK, I'll tell you, but it's dumb," said Ryan, throwing his hands in the air in resignation. "I'll tell you and then we drop it, OK?"

"As you wish," agreed Fraser.

"I got a place…a storage unit. The roof leaks, but it's all I could find," he began. "It's a place for kids to come and hang out. I got a pool table, a TV and VCR, a rusty old hoop out back if they want to shoot some baskets. That's all, but it's safe, y'know? At least it's meant to be."

Fraser and Ray were both stunned. Each of Ryan's revelations were more surprising than the last. He was the last person they could imagine running a youth centre of any kind.

"You think I'm making this up," sighed Ryan when he saw their faces.

"No, not at all," replied Fraser. "We're just a little…surprised, that's all. I assume this is where you've been disappearing to over the last couple of days?"

"Yeah," agreed Ryan. "If I had half a brain I'd give up on the whole idea, but…y'see I do it for an old pal of mine. Carl. We used to hang out all the time at school and we'd go to this youth club. It was great, a hundred times better than the dump I run. Best times of my life…" he trailed off and blinked hard.

"What happened?" Fraser prompted gently. He could see Ryan had become emotional, but they needed to know the full story if they were going to help him. And despite Ryan's protestations, Fraser was going to try to help.

Ryan swallowed hard. "Carl…Carl was killed by some crack dealer dude," he explained, fighting to keep his emotions under control. "Turns out he thought Carl was someone else. If the cops had been doing their jobs properly he would have been in jail, but cops can't do everything. I thought they could, but they can't. I figured that out the hard way."

"I'm terribly sorry, Ryan," said Fraser sincerely. "Being a police officer is not easy. I wish we could help everyone who needs us."

"He tries," Ray added, nodding towards his Mountie friend. "Believe me, he tries."

"Yeah, well, after that I guess I got disillusioned," continued Ryan. "It's just not for me. I'm sure my folks and my brother and sister are great cops and you guys too, but…but I can't be like you. For years I thought I could, but I can't."

"It sounds like you have other skills to offer," Fraser pointed out. "Not everyone can win the trust of young people. What you're doing is admirable."

"Is it?" asked Ryan, dismissively. "My stupid hang-out is called Carl's Place. I wanted to remember him, to honour him. Except now all I'm doing is fighting a losing battle."

"Who's giving you trouble?" asked Ray. "The kids?"

"No, the kids are great," replied Ryan, smiling for the first time since he'd begun to tell his story. "But there's a gang…they found us and they won't leave us alone. They show up almost every night and trash the place. I tell the kids to run. I try to stop it happening, but…"

"But you can't fight them single-handed," Fraser finished his sentence for him.

Ryan shook his head sadly. "I wear Carl's old hockey mask," he explained. "I thought it would protect me…stupid, I know."

"It's not stupid at all," replied Fraser. "Protecting your head from injury is very sensible."

"But there are too many of them," sighed Ryan, wincing as he suddenly became acutely aware of his most recent injuries.

"Did you ever think about just walking away?" asked Ray.

"I can't, I gotta protect Carl's Place," replied Ryan. "It's the only place some of these kids have got. I can't let it go, not now. I've worked too hard."

Fraser couldn't help but admire his words. Their first impressions of Ryan had been very wrong. He certainly had some good intentions, even if his attitude didn't always match up.

"Why don't you just call the cops?" asked Ray.

"Because I don't want my Dad to know, that's why!" exclaimed Ryan. "Come on, you're supposed to be a great detective! He'll think I'm wasting my time with dropouts."

"But a significant portion of police time is put into community projects like yours," Fraser pointed out. "I don't know your father well, but I suspect he would approve of the work you've been doing."

"Nah," replied Ryan. "He'll say I should be concentrating on my career."

"Your career in the Chicago Police Department, you mean?" said Fraser.

"Yeah," replied Ryan. "Biggest joke in history. I'm not like him, I'm never gonna make Super. Geez I'll probably never make Detective."

"Then you should tell him how you feel and withdraw from the Academy," said Fraser. "You're still young enough that you could go to college and gain other qualifications which will lead you to a more rewarding career. Teacher, perhaps, or social worker. There are a number of options you could consider."

"Social worker? Are you kidding me?" Ryan suddenly threw back the blanket and got to his feet, the old attitude pushing away any signs of emotion. He was a little unsteady, but he fought the dizziness to remain upright. "Did you say something about a bathroom in this dump?" he asked Fraser. "I stink."

xXxXxXx

"Are you sure about this?" Ray threw his overcoat around his shoulders and walked towards Fraser's door.

Ryan had washed and dressed and seemed a little brighter, as if some of the weight he'd been carrying around on his shoulders had been lifted just by talking to someone about how he felt. Ray wasn't sure what else they could do to help. Ryan was insistent that none of it got back to his father. He wanted to carry on as if nothing had changed and was, apparently, ready for another day playing cops with Ray.

"I'm sure," Ryan assured him. "I've made my decision, Vecchio. I'm gonna be a cop. Maybe not a great one, but that's up to me. Now can we get outta this place?"

Fraser picked up his hat and placed it squarely on his head, then he looked down at Diefenbaker who was at his heels. "I don't know what's wrong with you this morning?" he said. Then he looked at Ray and lowered his voice. "He's complaining about his…" but Fraser did not get to finish his sentence.

Instead there was a sudden loud bang and a crash, followed by screaming, coming from the hall.

Fraser shot out of his apartment to see what had happened, closely followed by Ray, Dief and Ryan. The first thing they noticed was the smoke, then the flames dancing around the gears of the lift mechanism in the centre of the building. The screaming and shouting was coming from the floor below. Ray and Ryan covered their mouths with their hands as the acrid smoke began to choke them.

Fraser leaned over the bannister to see what was going on. "Ray, there's someone trapped in the elevator!" he yelled and started down the stairs. He was met half way down by a man in an obvious state of distress.

"Constable Fraser! Help!" exclaimed the man. "It's Mei Xing!"

"I'll call 911," Ray yelled, fumbling in his coat pocket for his phone.

"Mr Hu," said Fraser, grabbing his neighbour by his shoulders. "What happened?"

"We need to go to hospital," replied Mr Hu in a heavy Chinese accent. "To have baby, but now this fire…and the elevator…look! It will fall!"

Fraser ran the rest of the way down to the floor below where he could see that the lift containing a very pregnant Mei Xing Hu was swinging at a precarious angle.

"This building should be condemned!" hollered Ray from the floor above. "I can't even find a fire extinguisher!"

"At the end of the corridor," Fraser shouted back. "A spark must have ignited the dust and debris around the motor."

Ray found the fire extinguisher and pulled the pin, throwing all the electrical switches on the box in the corner as he ran past. His action plunged the hallway into semi darkness as the only light now came from the tiny windows on the stairwell and at each end of the hallway.

"What's happening down there, Benny?" Ray called out as he doused the flames in foam. He couldn't really see into the lift car which was stuck between the two floors.

"Mrs Hu is having a baby, Ray. We need to secure the elevator and get her out," replied Fraser, running back up the stairs. "The cables are damaged, I don't know how long they'll take the weight."

Hurriedly he unbuckled his Sam Browne and threw it off his shoulder. Then he rolled up the outer lift door and stepped through. He clung to the other side of the metal framework and began to climb up towards the array of gears and pulleys, being careful to avoid putting any stress on the lift car itself where the terrified woman lay on the floor, moaning in pain.

"What the hell is he doing?" asked Ryan. He had been standing with his back against the wall watching the chaos unfold around him, but now he ran forward to watch in disbelief as Fraser climbed higher and higher.

"Hey, don't worry," responded Ray. "This isn't really happening. I figure this is your dream, though, 'cause my subconscious would've come up with something more believable."

"Mei Xing," Fraser called out. The strain showed in his voice as he hauled himself up towards his destination. "Please…please try to keep still, we need to stop the swinging motion."

Mei Xing tried to respond, but instead was overwhelmed by another agonising abdominal pain. She yelled out and clutched her arms around herself, but the sudden action only caused the lift to swing even more.

"Try to breathe through the contractions," Fraser called out to her. He was panting heavily now the vertical climb started to take its toll.

"She's trapped in an elevator and she's having contractions?" Ray repeated, hoping he'd misheard. "This kinda thing doesn't really happen, Benny! This is some kinda joke, right?"

"I'm not sure that Mrs Hu is laughing, Ray," replied Fraser.

Mei Xing desperately tried to reach out to her husband, but he was too far away. He spoke to her in Cantonese and she began to pant through her pain.

Ray watched as Fraser leapt across to the metal struts on the back wall. Anyone else would have fallen, but Fraser had the agility and climbing skills to make it appear as though he was perfectly secure. Ray knew he was risking his life, though. "Be careful, Benny!"

Fraser took his belt and wrapped it around one of the undamaged parts of the motor mechanism, then with the last of his strength he pulled one of the damaged cables completely free. He tied one end of the cable around his belt and then flung the other end so it looped itself around the top of the lift car. Mei Xing cried out again. "I'll be with you in just a moment," Fraser shouted encouragingly. "Just remember to breathe."

He had to pause momentarily to take his own advice as his lungs complained at the lack of oxygen. Then he repeated his words to the trapped woman in Cantonese. Although Mr and Mrs Hu spoke good English he realised that in her distress Mei Xing would find it easier to converse in her native language. He just wished he wasn't so rusty. Ordering dinner was one thing, but giving a woman in the latter stages of labour instructions during the impending rescue and quite possibly the delivery of her baby was going to be quite another.

Finally, Fraser pulled the belt tightly and buckled it securely. With a sharp tug to be sure his hastily created contraption would hold he leapt back across to the cage, climbed back down to the entrance and swung himself out onto the landing to join Ray and Ryan. "It won't hold for long," he said, keeping his voice low so as not to alarm Mr and Mrs Hu any further. "Ryan, in my closet is a first aid kit, blankets, pillows and some towels. We'll need all of them."

Ryan just stood there, staring at Fraser with wide eyes. Dief barked at him, but the young man still made no move. He was having trouble taking in the seriousness of the situation and he didn't know how to react. This was exactly the kind of situation that he knew he would never be able to cope with if he ever got his shield.

"Ryan, hurry!" urged Fraser. He spun round and leaned over the edge of the stairwell to check on Mrs Hu.

Ryan took a deep breath and finally realised how badly they needed his help and he turned and ran back towards Fraser's apartment.

"Are you gonna climb down to her?" Ray asked Fraser.

"I don't think my belt will support the extra weight," explained Fraser. "We can use blankets to form a cradle and hoist Mrs Hu up and out onto this floor. I'll need your help."

Ryan came running back, his arms laden with all the items Fraser had asked for. Quickly, Fraser set about his plan to get Mei Xing out of the lift. He tied the corners of two blanket together and lowered them down towards the lift, keeping a tight grip on the other end. "Can you stand? Can you reach it?" he called to her.

Mei Xing couldn't find the strength to reply, but slowly she pulled herself to a sitting position and reached out of the door.

"Careful, lady!" Ray shouted, worried that she was going to fall out of the lift, but she had a firm grasp of the side and was just about able to grab the side of the blanket.

"Good," said Fraser as she collapsed back onto the floor. "Now just wrap yourself in the blanket and try to relax," he said, repeating his instruction in Cantonese. "That's good, Mrs Hu. Just imagine it's a hammock," he added, but he couldn't remember the Cantonese word for 'hammock' so he just had to hope she had understood. "Ray, have you got that end?"

Ray nodded. "So now we just pull her up?" he asked, wrapping the corner around his wrist for extra security.

"Yes, slowly," Fraser replied with a nod. "Her centre of gravity is not established. She could tip out if we're not careful."

Fraser and Ray braced themselves against the side of the lift cage and began hauling Mei Xing Hu out of her precarious predicament.

Ryan stood in the stairwell in disbelief as the rescue entered its final stage. His gaze shot between them and Mr Hu on the floor below who was speaking in Cantonese to his terrified wife, trying to calm her. Ryan thought he should be helping somehow, but he had no idea what to do so he just stood there rooted to the spot while the operation unfolded around him.

"How are you doing, Ray?" Fraser asked, realising his friend was struggling to maintain his grip.

"I'm doing…I'm doing fine, Benny," he lied.

Suddenly, Mei Xing was overcome by a strong contraction and she lurched forward. The makeshift cradle swung sideways and she screamed in terror. Ray tried to grab the side of the doorway to stop himself tumbling down the lift shaft, but he missed and slipped further towards the edge. Ray desperately clutched at the blanket, although he knew the action was futile - if he fell Mei Xing was going down with him.

Just as Ray thought he was going to plummet to his death, he felt Fraser's firm grasp on his belt.

"I've got you, Ray," said Fraser, gritting his teeth with the effort. He hauled his friend back to safety, still somehow managing to maintain his grip on the blanket carrying Mei Xing.

They paused for a second as Ray caught his breath, before continuing with the rescue.

Eventually Fraser was able to lift Mei Xing out and onto the floor. Mr Hu came running back up the stairs, almost knocking Ryan flying as he hurried to be with his wife. He fell to his knees beside her, kissing her and holding her hand.

"Thank you, thank you," he said to Fraser and Ray.

"Don't thank me, thank Spider-Mountie here," replied Ray, who had half-collapsed himself. He nodded towards Fraser. He'd seen the Mountie do some amazing things since he'd known him, but he had no idea how his friend had managed to maintain his grip on the wall while he had been strapping his belt around the lift mechanism. Ray glanced up to see if Fraser's handiwork was still in place and almost on cue the lift creaked and shuddered as the belt began to give way. In a split second, the cage broke away and clattered down the shaft to the basement, sending a cloud of dust in its wake.

Ray held his breath as he realised if it hadn't been for Fraser, it would have been him lying shattered into pieces at the base of the lift shaft. Not to mention Mrs Hu and her unborn baby. Ray turned back to Fraser to thank him for saving his life, but Fraser's attention was fully focussed on Mrs Hu.

He knelt beside her, opened the first aid kit and pulled on a pair of sterile gloves.

"What…what're you doing, Benny?" Ray asked, although he didn't really need an answer.

"Mrs Hu is having a baby, Ray," replied Fraser, calmly.

"No!" exclaimed Mei Xing. "No! Hospital!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs Hu," said Fraser, "but your baby is rather eager to make an appearance. There's no time to get to the hospital."

Mei Xing clung to her husband's hand as Fraser tried to make her comfortable on the floor with the pillows.

Ray got to his feet and took a step backwards, preferring to stay out of the way. He suddenly realised he hadn't heard a word from Ryan throughout the rescue.

 _Don't tell me he's done another disappearing act…_

But Ryan was still there, standing at the top of the stairs. His eyes had a glazed look and his breathing was shallow.

"Ryan?" asked Ray, suddenly concerned, but he got no response from the young man. "Earth to Ryan," he tried again, walking over to him as Mei Xing let out a piercing scream.

The sudden noise was enough to snap Ryan out of his trance and he turned to Ray with a look of genuine fear. "I…I…I can't…" he stammered. "I can't do this!" and he ran down the stairs.

"Ryan!" Ray called after him. He hesitated, torn between running after Ryan and staying to see if Fraser needed any help. He glanced back at the Mountie who had already seen what had happened, despite being in the midst of preparing to deliver a baby.

"Go," said Fraser, nodding towards the stairs. "We're fine here," he added before returning his attentions to Mei Xing.

Ray nodded and ran down the stairs to catch up with Ryan. As much as he didn't know what he was going to say to him, Ray was glad to be out of the commotion. He'd never had to deliver a baby before – that kind of thing was definitely best left to Fraser - and he wasn't about to get involved in a delivery on the landing of Fraser's filthy slum of an excuse for an apartment building. He knew Mei Xing was in good hands, so he would just have to be the one to talk to Ryan and hopefully find out what was wrong.

 _I might be better at delivering the baby than finding the right words to say to that kid…_

Ray ran out into the fresh air of the morning and looked around for Ryan. At first he didn't see him, but then he spotted a figure huddled against the wall in between two overflowing dumpsters. Ryan had his arms wrapped protectively around himself. He looked cold, but the sun was shining and it was a deceptively warm spring day in Chicago so Ray realised something else was causing his chill. Ray walked over to him without calling out, he didn't want to risk another flight reaction.

As Ray got closer, Ryan looked up, but to Ray's relief he didn't run.

"Hey," said Ray in as sympathetic a voice as he could muster. "Didn't feel like hanging around until the stork showed up?" he asked with a grin.

Ryan looked at him as if he was talking in a foreign language.

"Don't worry about Mrs Hu and the baby," continued Ray. "Fraser's done this before, they'll be fine."

Ryan just shrugged nonchalantly.

Ray sighed. _He's not making this easy…_

"So, um, what did you mean back there?" he asked. "What is it you figure you can't do?" Ray felt the direct approach might be best.

"Ain't that obvious, Vecchio?" snapped Ryan, suddenly finding his voice. "I can't do that!" he continued pointing up towards Fraser's building. "I can't be a cop! I don't know who I thought I was trying to kid by going to the Academy?"

"OK, just listen to me for a second," said Ray. "That," he said, pointing at the same window of the building as Ryan just had. "That has nothing to do with being a cop, OK? That's just Fraser. He does this sort of thing all the time. Don't ask me why. He just attracts people in trouble like a magnet. This afternoon it'll be a cat stuck up a tree, or an old lady with a knitting emergency. No one expects you to rescue people from elevators, or deliver babies. We have the Fire and Rescue Service and, y'know, doctors to do that. All you need to do is go out there and keep thugs, gangsters and general slimeballs off the streets."

"Oh, come on," replied Ryan, throwing his hands in the air. "You telling me you wouldn't have done the same if Fraser hadn't been there?"

"No, I wouldn't," replied Ray, folding his arms across his chest defiantly. "I would've called 911 like any other concerned citizen and waited for help."

"Really? You would have just stood by and watch her fall?" continued Ryan, incredulously.

Ray sighed. "Well, no, of course not…" he trailed off. The truth was he had no idea what he would have done. "I guess adrenaline might have kicked in, but there's no way I would've gone climbing that wall."

Ryan nodded sadly. "I would've run," he confessed. "I don't mean run away, but I wouldn't have stuck around too long to see the damage. I guess maybe I might have come out here and flagged someone down to help out, I don't know, but if I'd been in uniform she would have expected me to help her and…and I would have let her down, I know it."

"Don't get too hung up on this," replied Ray. "Just don't go partnering up with a Mountie, that's my advice. Cop Rule one-oh-two hundred, or whatever we're up to. Believe me my life was never like this until Fraser came to town."

Ryan was about to say something else, but he and Ray were both suddenly distracted by the sound of a siren. Ray spun round to see the ambulance arrive.

"At last…" he mumbled under his breath and he ran over to the vehicle to brief the paramedics and direct them to the right floor of the building. As the two medics ran into the building, Ray turned to walk back towards the dumpsters, only to find that Ryan was nowhere to be seen.

Ray sighed and ran his hand over his forehead in frustration. "Great!" he yelled to no one in particular. "He's done it again!"


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6.**

"Mother and baby are doing well, Ray."

Ray grinned at Fraser's voice on the end of the phone. "That's great, Benny," he said. "Still no sign of Ryan," he added and his grin faded. "Yeah...yeah, I know. I'll try a couple more bars, but I figure he's gone over to that storage unit he told us about. I took a drive down there, but I couldn't see him. His place could be any one of twenty units, though...no, Benny, there were no signs on the door, not in that neighbourhood! Might as well send out catalogues in the mail to all the burglars. Number seven is full of expensive machinery. Number twelve is stacked floor to ceiling with antiques."

Fraser offered to walk straight there from the hospital and Ray agreed to meet him there in an hour after he'd driven his sister to her chiropractor appointment.

"There's nothing wrong with Frannie's back," he explained when Fraser expressed concern. "But the chiropractor is this fit Swedish guy and she can't get enough of his hands all over her."

Ray laughed as Fraser cleared his throat and stammered something unintelligible.

"See you in half an hour, Benny," said Ray when he decided his friend had suffered enough.

At the hospital, Fraser handed the telephone back to the nurse. "Thank you kindly," he said with a smile.

"Oh, my pleasure," the nurse responded, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "I'm Annie, by the way. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Er, not at this juncture," he replied, running his finger around his collar which had inexplicably become tighter. "Thank you, er, Nurse Annie."

"If we need help with any more babies, can I call you?" asked Annie, her face flushing.

"Um, well, I..." Fraser stammered. "I, er, I'm sure there are people far more qualified here at the hospital...doctors and so forth..."

" But..." began Annie, unable to hide the desperation in her voice , but then another nurse walked over to her to ask her a question and Fraser made his escape.

The second nurse had to repeat her question when she realised Annie wasn't listening to her.

"Oh, sorry," said Annie, gazing after Fraser as he raced down the corridor and out of sight. "That's him," she added. "The Mountie."

"The one who delivered the baby?" queried her colleague.

"Yes," confirmed Anne with a wistful sigh. "Oh my...I think my ovaries just exploded!"

XxXxXxXxX

"Ray was right, Diefenbaker, these storage units have little in the way of distinguishing features."

Ryan had only given them a vague idea of where the unit he used for his youth centre was located and Fraser and Diefenbaker walked around the area looking for anything that might give them a clue. The individual units were arranged in rows of five and were made of corrugated iron with green roofs. Some, but not all, had tiny plastic windows. Many had large padlocks securing the entrance door. Some of the units had clearly been abandoned long ago, while others were apparently in regular use.

They walked a little further until Fraser spotted something. Tucked into a tiny gap between two of the storage units was a basketball hoop. The backboard was broken as if it had been pulled from its fixings.

"Ryan mentioned a hoop," said Fraser, crouching to examine it. He let Dief sniff at it for a minute before getting to his feet and looking around. "There," he said suddenly and strode purposefully across to one of the other units. He pointed to a tall metal pole on a sturdy base. Still attached to the top of the pole was the remainder of the backboard from the basketball hoop.

"Of course this could have been moved, too," he said and Dief barked in agreement. "There's no guarantee that this is the…" but before he could finish his sentence he suddenly became aware of someone sneaking up behind him.

Fraser reached behind him and grabbed the arm of his potential assailant. Dief barked loudly and Fraser spun round, just in time to avoid being kicked. He sidestepped the attack and prepared to fight back, but then he realised his attacker was a teenage girl, no more than five feet tall and he released his grip.

The girl took advantage of his hesitation and rammed her elbow into his ribs. Fraser gasped fleetingly then reached out in an attempt to restrain her again, but this time she grabbed his hand and dug her nails into his palm. Then a voice stopped them both mid struggle.

"No!"

Fraser and the girl looked round to see Ryan walking towards them.

"Leave him, Lulu, he's a friend."

At Ryan's words the girl reluctantly took a step backwards. "Pity," she said with a grin. "I was enjoying that." She winked at Fraser and folded her arms.

Fraser was impressed by Lulu's strength and determination. She was dressed in denim shorts and a ripped white t-shirt layered over a black undershirt and her face was adorned with piercings. Her hair was dyed pink and styled maniacally.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Lulu," he said. "I thought you were…"

"A guy?" Lulu interrupted with a laugh.

"So you found me, then," said Ryan. "I saw Vecchio's car driving around here earlier. Figured it wouldn't be too long before you showed up."

"Why the secrecy?" asked Fraser.

"I don't like to advertise this place," Ryan explained. "The kids who come here find out about us through word of mouth. Figure it's safer that way."

"Understood." Fraser nodded.

"But seeing as you found me you might as well come in," Ryan said to him. "You'll have to excuse the state of the place, I'm still trying to clean up after the other night."

Fraser followed Ryan into the storage unit with Lulu and Dief. "Oh dear," he said when he saw the mess.

The unit was deceptively large inside. A pool table stood in one corner, but it was covered with what appeared to be ripped up magazines. An empty bookcase stood against one wall with the books it once carried stacked randomly in front of it ready to be reloaded onto the shelves. There was a pile of boxed games which had seen better days and various art and craft materials were stacked in crates beside them. The floor needed a good sweep to rid it of the remnants of what looked like a food fight, although Fraser assumed the cause had been decidedly less fun than that description made it sound. There was a small TV set on the wall and a few video tapes lay on the floor underneath, mostly in broken cases.

"I was thinking of just leaving it like this," said Ryan. "Getting kinda fed up of picking it all up every other day."

"The gang of trouble makers you mentioned," began Fraser picking up a book and placing it on the bookshelf. "Are you able to identify any of them?"

"Maybe," Ryan replied. "Some of them wear scarves or masks and even the ones who don't, well…well it's kinda hard to note distinguishing features when you're on the floor and there's three of them kicking you in the guts."

Fraser nodded sadly. "Are they armed?"

"Only with baseball bats and steel toe-capped boots," replied Ryan with a shudder. "They're amateurs."

"Are you a Mountie?" asked Lulu, noticing Fraser's uniform for the first time.

"Yes, miss," replied Fraser.

"Geez, Ryan, have you got any friends who aren't cops?" she asked him with a grin.

Ryan sneered at her.

"Can you…can you help us?" Lulu asked Fraser. "I told him to call the cops, but I take it you know about Ryan and cops," she added, knowingly.

Fraser could tell it hadn't been easy for her to ask him for help. He was about to answer her, but Ryan suddenly threw an already broken glass across the room and it smashed against the wall.

"We don't need help from the cops!" he exclaimed. "I can handle this. I told you already."

"Ray and I can help you in an unofficial capacity," Fraser suggested. "Your father need not find out."

"This is nothing to do with my Dad," insisted Ryan.

"Alright," replied Fraser, keeping his voice even.

"But Ryan, it's getting outta hand," said Lulu, standing with her hands on her hips. "Look, you know how much I wanna kick his ass, but…" she trailed off and turned away, her shoulders slumped.

Fraser glanced at Ryan, puzzled by Lulu's words and the sudden change in her demeanour. He'd seen a crack in her tough exterior and he realised it had something to do with what was going on here. He looked back to the girl. "Lulu, do you know who's doing this?" he asked gently.

"No, she doesn't," snapped Ryan.

"Just tell him, Ryan," urged Lulu, spinning back round to face them. "Tell him why I'm here. You see, Mountie, I'm not one of those kids who just heard about this place like the others." Then the plucky grin returned to her face. "I'm special," she added.

"Yep, you're special," Ryan agreed with half a smile. "Lulu here was the first person I ever arrested...and probably the last."

"I don't understand?"

"I used to hang out with this loser, Pete McArthur," Lulu began. "Kind of my boyfriend...at least that's what he called himself. More like my rapist, but hey, what's in a name?"

Fraser tried not to look shocked at her casual revelation.

"Still it was better than hanging out at home with my stepdad," she added. She didn't need to explain any further, Fraser could read the signs. Lulu had been through a lot so far in her young life.

"So, one day we were robbing this drugstore and Ryan came in and, well, he went all Robocop on me!" Lulu continued.

"What can I say?" said Ryan with a shrug. "It's in my blood. OK, so technically it was just a citizen's arrest, but like I told you, I know how to be a cop, even if I don't wanna be one."

"Pete ran off, but I guess he's pissed now," said Lulu. "And Ryan brought me here. I thought he was gonna take me to the cops, but…" she trailed off and absentmindedly fiddled with one of her lip piercings, waiting for Ryan to say something, but he remained silent.

Fraser realised what Lulu was inferring. "And you believe Pete McArthur is responsible for these attacks?"

"I guess he's found himself some buddies" shrugged Lulu. "It's my fault," she added dejectedly.

"No, it's my fault," Ryan insisted. "This was meant to be a safe place for you and the others."

"Ryan, what you're doing here is admirable," said Fraser. "I'm sure your father would agree."

"Don't you wanna see the look on Pete's face when he gets busted?" asked Lulu. "By the highest ranking cop in the city…and a Mountie?"

Ryan scowled at her and tossed a broom across the room to her. "There's still broken glass down there," he said.

xXxXxXxXx

Fraser, Ryan and Lulu spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up until there was very little sign that there had ever been any trouble at all. Ryan didn't expect the tranquillity to last for long, though.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this." Ryan scowled at Lulu across the table as he spoke. Her face was lit only by the hint of moonlight trickling in through the dirty, plastic window of the unit and her pink hair seemed almost luminescent.

"Hey, listen to me, Ryan. This isn't just about you," retorted Lulu with a scowl. "The kids need Carl's Place…I need Carl's Place. If it wasn't for this place I'd still be with Pete and I'd still be living at home with my stepdad."

"I can't believe you let you talk me into this either." Ray scowled at Fraser as he spoke. "I'm hiding under a pool table, your elbow is in my face and I think I just sat on a raisin…unless…hey, Ryan, you don't have rats, do you?"

"No," replied Ryan. "And I told you, you don't have to do this."

"It's alright, Ryan," Fraser reassured him from his somewhat cramped position next to Ray. "Ray and I are happy to have the chance to apprehend the perpetrators."

"Yeah, look at me, I'm ecstatic," grumbled Ray. "I'm unarmed, remember? I should have my gun back by now, but apparently those bozos from the shooting team are too busy painting their nails to do the paperwork."

"They might not even show up tonight," Ryan pointed out. "We could be out there busting some real bad guys." He caught Ray's glare from under the pool table and quickly corrected himself. "I mean, you could be out there and I could watching you from the car."

"Are you really still determined to go to the Academy?" asked Ray. "Even after everything you've told us?"

"What choice do I have?" Ryan replied with a shrug.

"Well I know what I'd do," said Lulu with a determined look on her face. "I'd tell my old man I don't wanna go."

"It's not that easy," Ryan insisted.

"It's a hell of a lot easier than telling your stepdad to take his filthy hands off you for the hundredth time," replied Lulu. "I don't get it, you're acting like a total jerk."

"Thanks," replied Ryan with a sarcastic smile.

"I used to think you were my hero," Lulu admitted. "That day you came back for me…" she began, but she trailed off.

Fraser and Ray quickly realised they still didn't know the whole story, but it was becoming clear exactly why Ryan had been so good with the abuse victim they'd helped the other night. "Lulu, if you don't mind me asking…what happened?" asked Fraser, gently. They were finally learning about another side to Ryan and it was certainly eye-opening. "If it's too difficult to talk about I understand," he added.

"No, no, it's OK," replied Lulu and Ryan rolled his eyes in resignation. "I was really grateful to Ryan for getting me away from Pete that day, don't get me wrong, but I didn't know how to get away from my stepdad. I was sixteen and I didn't realise I had a choice so that night after I got away from Pete I just went home, I went back to him. He's the only family I had, ever since my Mom died when I was twelve. I'd given up trying to fight back…" her voice cracked and she stopped to compose herself. "But Ryan came for me," she said eventually. "He saved me again."

"Yeah, well, you were stupid for going back," Ryan shrugged. "Figured someone had to do something after what you'd told me about him."

"Again, Ryan, you could have called the cops!" exclaimed Ray. "Oh no, wait, you know better, right? Who needs the Chicago PD when they have you, Mr I-Can-Recite-The-Training-Manual-Backwards, huh? Jeez, kid, one day you're gonna get yourself killed!"

"OK, so I'm a jerk!" exclaimed Ryan, leaping to his feet and knocking the plastic chair he'd been sitting on crashing to the floor. "I should've just left her there, I should've just let him do whatever he wanted to her. Is that it?"

"Ryan, please sit down," Fraser urged.

"No, forget it," snapped Ryan. "If you guys wanna wait here to get ambushed by these morons, go ahead. I'm done." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key attached to a green, plastic fob. "Here," he said, tossing the key to Lulu. "It's all yours. I have stuff to do before I go to the Academy. I don't have time for this place anymore."

"You're quitting?" asked Lulu, unable to believe what she was hearing. "You can't do that!"

"Watch me," snapped Ryan and he stormed out of the door.

xXxXxXxXx

"Ryan, wait," Fraser called out as he ran after the young man.

"Why?" asked Ryan, spinning round to face him. "So you can lecture me again? Jesus, just take me home to my Dad and let him do it, save you the trouble."

Fraser sighed. Dealing with Ryan was becoming more and more frustrating. "People are trying to help you," he said firmly. "Me, Ray, Lulu…Carl's Place is important to her and you're willing to shatter her faith in you and walk away? Why?"

"Because the whole thing is a waste of time," replied Ryan. "I'm going to be a cop. That's it. End of story."

"You don't have to keep punishing yourself," Fraser replied.

Ryan stared at him. "For what?" he asked, his voice suddenly quiet.

"For being a disappointment to your father," replied Fraser.

Ryan didn't answer for a moment. When he did find his voice it was barely audible. "Is that what you think?" he asked.

"No," said Fraser. "But it's what you think. You're wrong, by the way. If your father knew about what you've done for Lulu, do you think he'd be disappointed in you?"

Ryan just shrugged and then he turned to walk away.

"You couldn't let her down so you went back to save her from her stepfather," continued Fraser and he began walking to keep up with Ryan. "But now you feel if you don't go to the Academy you'll be letting your father down. However, I doubt very much that your father will see it that way. I think he'd be proud of you."

Ryan shook his head. "You don't know anything, Mountie," he said.

"My mother died when I was six," said Fraser, suddenly. He swallowed hard. It was difficult for him to talk about the loss of his mother, but he could see no other way to get through to Ryan. Fraser hoped to make him see what he was throwing away.

Fraser's words stunned Ryan and he stopped walking and turned back to face him. "Oh, I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I don't remember anything about what happened, but for many years I felt as though I'd let her down somehow," continued Fraser. "After that my relationship with my father became, well, distant and I believed he felt the same way…that he blamed me somehow. He passed away last year and it's only been since then that I've discovered the truth about how he felt. If only we'd talked sooner before it was too late."

Ryan sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about your Dad - one of the hardest things about growing up was wondering if my Dad would make it home every night - but I don't see how this has anything to do with me."

"The chance for me to have a proper relationship with my father has passed," Fraser explained. "At least in any corporeal sense, but you still have time. Talk to him, tell him how you feel."

"And you think he won't be disappointed?" asked Ryan incredulously.

"Only because you've not been honest with him up until now," replied Fraser. "But he'll be even more disappointed five, or ten years into the future when he realises you became a police officer just to please him."

Ryan sighed. A hundred thoughts were spinning round in his head. "I guess…" he began, but he didn't get chance to say anything else as the roar of a group of motorbikes approaching shattered the serenity of the evening. "That's them!" he exclaimed.

xXxXxXx

Ray had been talking to Lulu from the relative comfort of a plastic chair while Fraser and Ryan had been outside. They got to their feet as they heard the noise of the four motorbikes hurtling along the dusty track.

"That's Pete's gang," said Lulu wringing her hands together with anticipation. "I'm gonna enjoy this!"

"Stay calm, stick to the plan," Ray urged and he reluctantly returned to his previous hiding place just as Fraser and Ryan ran back inside.

"It's them," Fraser confirmed with a nod and he flung himself back under the pool table to join Ray.

"Watch where you're putting your knee, Benny!" exclaimed Ray, momentarily flinching before moving over to make a little more room.

"Sorry, Ray," replied Fraser in a hushed voice.

At that moment the door flew open with a crash and four unsavoury looking characters appeared.

Sticking to their pre-arranged plan, Ryan and Lulu sat at the table playing cards. They offered the new arrivals nothing more than a glance before returning to their game. The lack of a reaction stopped the gang in their tracks.

"This ain't the usual welcome," snarled one of the men.

It was obvious to Ray and Fraser that the man who had spoken was Pete McArthur. He was clearly the leader of the gang and his self-important manner overpowered the sub-servient, if menacing, body language of the three other members of the gang. Pete had stubble and a shaved head and he wore a black t-shirt, tatty leather jacket and torn jeans. His three cronies wore similar outfits and each carried a baseball bat.

Lulu and Ryan continued to ignore them.

"I don't think they've noticed us, Pete," snarled one of the men and in a split-second he had smashed his baseball bat through a plastic crate containing art and craft materials. The contents scattered all over the floor.

"Oh hi, Pete," replied Ryan casually. He hoped Pete couldn't see his hands shaking as he spoke. "Jeez, if I'd known you were coming I'd have baked a cake."

Pete grinned and nodded threateningly. "Funny guy," he said, dryly. He walked towards them and squatted down next to Lulu. "What about you, sweet-cheeks? Don't I get a kiss ?" He reached out and stroked the side of her face, but he'd barely got a touch when she brought her hand up and pushed him away.

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

"Oh, baby," sighed Pete getting to his feet. "You still playin' this tune? Come on, we're good together."

Lulu scowled at him. "You're good for nothing," she sneered.

Pete glanced back over his shoulder at his associates. "Did you hear that?" he asked, feigning offence.

"You gotta show the boss more respect, lady!" said the tallest of the other men, jabbing his finger towards Lulu and the other two nodded in agreement.

"You gotta pay for that!" added another of the thugs and before anyone could object they began destroying more of the equipment. Two of them pulled an entire bookcase over sending books and magazines flying all over the floor. The tallest man picked up one of the books and hurled it towards Ryan. It went skimming past him, narrowly avoiding his head.

Ryan gritted his teeth and tried to ignore what was going on around him. As much as he was desperate to stop them he knew how this ended - usually with Pete's gang working him over until he was spitting out blood. He hated to stand back and watch the destruction of all his furniture and equipment, but he knew that this time he had to stick to the plan and wait for Ray and Fraser to show themselves.

"Enough," said Pete with a wave of his hand after a considerable amount of damage had been done. His gang obeyed his orders and re-grouped by the door.

Pete turned back to Lulu and suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her to her feet and sending her hand of cards flying across the room.

"I told you, get your hands off me!" exclaimed Lulu.

From his hiding place under the pool table Fraser made a move to break his cover, but Ray's firm hand stopped him just in time. He shook his head and Fraser reluctantly nodded in agreement. He knew they needed to wait for Pete to do something else before they could reveal themselves and arrest him.

Either way the best they could do was perform a citizen's arrest. Ryan had made it clear to Ray that he was only accepting their offer of help on the condition that it was unofficial. Ray and Fraser were acting as friends only, not police officers. Ray wasn't happy with the arrangement, but it was the only way Ryan would allow them to be there at all.

Ryan glanced up at Pete. "Let her go," he said coolly, fighting to keep his temper under control.

"Or, what?" asked Pete. "You're not wearin' your mask, do you want me to break your face? "

"I just want you to let her go," reiterated Ryan. "I don't want any trouble."

Pete stared at Lulu. "Since when did you need him fightin' your battles?" he asked.

"I don't," snapped Lulu and then without warning she threw a punch at Pete, hitting him squarely on the nose.

"Lulu!" exclaimed Ryan. This wasn't part of the plan.

Pete retaliated immediately, by slapping her across the face. Lulu tried to sidestep him, but she wasn't quick enough and the stinging pain nearly brought tears to her eyes.

There was a momentary silent pause while everyone assimilated the change in atmosphere before chaos erupted.

Ryan leapt to his feet and pulled Pete away from Lulu. He punched Pete hard on the side of his head, but Pete was quick with a similar action and the two of them stumbled backwards into a bookcase. Lulu ran towards them, but two of Pete's cronies seized her arms and dragged her to the floor while the third man began randomly smashing everything he could see with his bat.

Fraser and Ray had seen enough. In a split-second, Fraser was on his feet and he rushed to help Ryan while Ray scrambled towards Lulu.

Stunned by their sudden appearances, Pete and his gang could do nothing to prevent being overpowered. Fraser grabbed Pete from behind and bundled him to the floor, holding him face down in an arm lock. Ray went for the tallest man, elbowing him in the chest and knocking the wind out of him. The man stumbled as he gasped for air and Ray swiftly pushed him down onto his knees, clasping the man's hands tightly behind his back

Despite her small frame, Lulu had no hesitation in jumping at one of Pete's other sidekicks. She threw a punch at his chin and before he had a chance to defend himself she kneed him in the groin. The man yelped in agony and doubled over. Lulu grabbed a chair and rammed it into his side, knocking him to the floor. Then quickly she dropped the chair down on top of him and sat on it, trapping him underneath.

At the same time, Ryan had no difficulty shoving the last of the gang members against the wall. The man tried to hit Ryan, but the younger man's strength won him over and he slid to his knees. Ryan thrust his knee into the man's back to restrain him. He glanced around and Fraser, Ray and Lulu, panting as he tried to take in what had happened.

An apple rolled across the floor from the upturned fruit bowl and Lulu casually picked it up and took a bite. "Bet y'wish you'd never come back, huh, Pete?" she asked with her mouth full and she grinned smugly at him.

Pete snarled at her and then turned to Ryan. "So you finally went running to Daddy and called the cops!" he exclaimed. He glowered at Ray and struggled in vain to free himself from Fraser's clutches.

"I didn't say I was a cop?" said Ray with a frown of mock puzzlement as he exerted a little extra pressure on his own squirming prisoner.

"Oh, come on," retorted Pete. "You think I'm that stupid? You're a cop! You look like a cop and you smell like a cop."

"I do?" Ray queried, a grin spreading over his face. He puffed his chest out proudly, but then just as quickly his shoulders slumped and he looked at Fraser. "I mean, that's a good thing, isn't it, Benny?" he asked.

"I truly believe it is, Ray," replied Fraser. "Do you happen to have any handcuffs?" he asked casually.

"Funny you should ask, Benny," replied Ray with a grin. "But yes I do." He quickly produced two pairs, snapping one around the wrists of his detainee. "Well I think Lulu's got her guy under control," he said, nodding towards the writhing man under the chair. "Ryan?" he asked, offering him the second pair.

"I'm OK," replied Ryan. "I'll just use these," he added before grabbing some earphones from an upside-down crate and employing them to bind the man's hands together. Ray threw the spare cuffs to Fraser instead.

"Very innovative," Fraser noted as he snatched the flying handcuffs from the air.

"Hey, you can't do this to us!" growled Ryan's prisoner.

"Yeah, well, I can, actually," replied Ryan. "In accordance with section two-six-three, paragraph twelve of the Illinois Criminal Code I'm making a citizen's arrest."

"As am I," added Fraser, nodding approvingly at Ryan.

Ray rolled his eyes. "Yeah, me too," he said, sneering at his own captive. "Section two-six-two, paragraph twelve. You're under arrest, pal."

"That's two-six-three, Ray," Fraser pointed out. Ray glared at him.

Ryan didn't notice the error, he glanced at Lulu and let out a slow sigh of relief. "I think it's over," he said to her.

Lulu nodded and smiled, almost too overcome with emotion to speak, but she focussed just long enough to reply. "Thank you."


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7.**

"So let me get this straight, Fraser." Inspector Thatcher drummed her fingers on her desk as she read her subordinate's report for the third time. "You rescued a pregnant woman from an elevator and then proceeded to deliver her baby?"

"Yes, sir, that is correct," replied Fraser, standing to attention with his hat tucked under his arm. "A son, Chen-Hao."

"Have I walked into one of those cliché-laden movies that go straight-to-video and end up in a bargain bin at the video store, Constable?"

"Not that I'm aware of, sir."

"Oh come on, Fraser. A woman stuck in an elevator having a baby?" Meg rolled her eyes as the words left her lips.

"Mrs Hu did not actually deliver in the elevator," Fraser clarified.

"I realise that, but even so..." Meg trailed off and took a deep breath. "This is the kind of thing that only serves to enhance the stereotypical image of us in the eyes of the Americans, Fraser."

"Are you suggesting that helping Mrs Hu and her baby was bad for our image, Sir?" asked Fraser incredulously. He had a sudden flash of de-ja-vu as he remembered a very similar conversation he'd had with Inspector Moffat, Inspector Thatcher's predecessor, only a few months earlier.

"No, of course not," snapped Thatcher. "What I mean is…what I meant to say was…" She stopped and let out an abrupt sigh, realising there was no point continuing this discussion with him. "Speaking of Americans," she said, quietly pleased with herself at the seamless segue. "I had a telephone call this morning from Superintendent Fitzgerald. Some warning would have been nice, Fraser. I didn't expect a call from the highest ranking officer in Chicago."

"Ah," replied Fraser.

He had deliberately delayed telling Inspector Thatcher about Ryan and the events of the past few days, assuming she would find a whole list of faults with the way he had dealt with the situation. He and Ray had offered to take Ryan home last night and talk to his father about everything, but Ryan – stubborn as ever – had refused, so they had no idea how the Superintendent felt about what had happened.

"I will submit a full report," Fraser stated.

"A report about your lunch?" replied the Inspector, screwing up her face in bemusement.

"Lunch?" repeated an equally confused Fraser.

"With the Superintendent. He wants to take you and Detective Vecchio to lunch," explained Thatcher. "I'm not sure a full report will be required, although I am curious as to how you and Vecchio have come to know him."

"Ah, well, you see the Superintendent requested Ray's assistance in showing his youngest son the ropes, so to speak, regarding police work," Fraser enlightened her, relieved that he didn't appear to be in her bad books this time. "I was merely a chaperone."

"He wanted Ray Vecchio to show his son how to be a police officer?" Meg queried. "Are you sure he wasn't thinking of another Ray Vecchio?"

"Not as far as I'm aware," replied Fraser.

"Has there been any trouble?" she probed.

"Oh no, sir," replied Fraser, tugging at his left earlobe. "At least, um…well, you know how young people are."

"Not really," admitted Thatcher, but decided against asking any more questions. It was probably best that she did not know any details about what had been going on, she decided. Her conversation with Superintendent Fitzgerald had been perfectly cordial, so she assumed nothing too bad could have happened.

 _At least I don't have to reprimand him again...this time._

Fraser cleared his throat awkwardly, wondering if the Inspector was going to say anything else. She was staring at him and it was making him very uncomfortable. He didn't know whether to make eye contact, or look straight ahead. He decided looking straight ahead would be easier. Recently he'd realised that looking into her eyes made him experience feelings he had no idea how to process.

"Oh," said Thatcher suddenly. She blinked her eyes a few times and pretended to shuffle some papers on her desk. Again she didn't want him to leave, but she couldn't think of a valid reason to insist that he stayed. "Um, er, was there anything else?" she asked.

For a second, Fraser didn't answer. Hadn't she been the one to call him into her office, not the other way around? "No, I don't believe so," he replied.

"In that case you are dismissed," she snapped.

"Yes, sir," Fraser responded with a nod of his head and turned to leave.

"Oh, Fraser!" Thatcher called out suddenly.

He span round, his eyes wide. Her tone of voice was difficult for him to read at the best of times and this was no exception. She always exuded a confusing mix of emotions, not to mention pheromones and Fraser's heightened senses were continually overwhelmed just by her presence. So now he wasn't sure if he was in trouble, or something else had caused her to call him back. "Yes, sir?" he prompted when she said nothing further.

Thatcher's mind was racing. She had not called out to him for any other reason than to prevent him from leaving the room, but now she was desperately trying to think of an excuse. She got to her feet in an attempt to radiate authority.

"Fraser, I…" she began, but just as she started speak, Fraser's tongue darted out of his mouth and swished across his lower lip. She'd seen him do it a hundred times before - it was one of his endearing habits – but this morning he happened to be standing in such a way that the fresh moisture caught the sunlight and his lips sparkled like they were made of a thousand stars.

Meg was mesmerised. Her mouth suddenly felt dry and as hard as she tried she couldn't swallow. Or blink. Or do very much of anything. She felt her head start to spin and then a feeling of giddiness that she couldn't control washed over her. Before she could stop herself, she emitted a whimper and staggered backwards. She reached out to steady herself on her desk, but her hand missed and instead flailed wildly in the air.

Meg panicked as she lost all control, but then she felt a strong arm around her shoulders and a voice…that voice…pulled her back from wherever it was she had been heading.

"Sir! Inspector!" Fraser's worried tones grounded her in a place of safety. "It's alright, I've got you."

Meg blinked hard and realised Fraser had her in his arms. He carried her over to the couch and laid her down. She tried to speak, but no words appeared. Humiliation began to push the dizziness aside, but she did not have the strength to argue and instead she allowed him to fuss. He put two cushions behind her head and squatted beside her.

"Sir? Are you back with me?" he asked.

Meg nodded and he checked her pulse. His fingers pressed against her wrist and the warmth of his touch comforted her.

"What happened?" she finally managed to ask him, but she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

 _Did I just swoon? Surely not…I've never done that before. Do women even still do that in the Nineties? It can't be that…it can't be…but he looked so…so…_

"I'm not sure, sir," Fraser replied. "You weren't completely unconscious, but you were close. Have you had a medical check-up recently? It could be your blood pressure. You may be unwell."

"I hope you're right," replied Meg, forcing herself into a sitting position. At Fraser's puzzled frown, she added, "I mean, I hope it's my blood pressure and not something more serious."

"Understood," he replied.

"Come to think of it, I haven't eaten yet today," she continued. She felt completely normal again now, apart from feeling hugely embarrassed.

"That could be a contributing factor," noted Fraser. "Would you like me make you some breakfast? Then perhaps I should call your doctor?"

"No!" she snapped. "Don't be ridiculous. Now, haven't you got a lunch to attend shortly?"

"I have, sir, but perhaps I should stay here with you instead?" he replied.

Meg hesitated. Part of her wanted to order him to stay, but she knew that was completely ridiculous. Besides, he could be the problem and she didn't want to risk any more undignified episodes. "Thank you, Constable, but I'm perfectly fine now."

Fraser looked unconvinced, but nodded at her words. "Right you are," he said.

"Dismissed," she added.

Fraser lingered for a brief moment. He felt something, an urge to stay, but not because he was concerned for her health. It was something else, something he couldn't quantify.

"I said, dismissed," the Inspector hissed.

"I was just, er…" he floundered over his words. "….er, leaving," he said finally. He spun round and took one step towards the door, but his foot caught the corner of the couch and he stumbled, uncharacteristically losing his balance briefly before righting himself and marching out of her office.

He strode along the landing, holding his head high until Diefenbaker – who had been waiting outside - barked. He stopped and looked down at his wolf. "Don't be so absurd," he replied. "She is under a lot of stress," he added.

Dief yapped and wandered off.

"What do you mean?" Fraser called after him. "How could I possibly have that effect on anyone?"

xXxXxXxXx

Ray had never been to the restaurant Fitzgerald had booked for lunch, but he made a mental note to bring Louise here on their next date. It wasn't cheap, but she was worth it. Ray scanned down the menu for the third time and eventually settled on the pork steak.

"And I'll have the salmon." Fraser smiled at the waitress as he spoke.

"Would you like anything else?" she asked, blushing. "If you have any needs, anything at all, just wave and I'll be right over," she added with a wink.

Ray watched her walk away and grinned. "I'm sure you will," he mumbled under his breath. He glanced at Fraser who was, as usual, completely oblivious to the waitress' attempt to flirt with him.

"Thank you both for coming," said Superintendent Fitzgerald with an appreciative nod. "Ryan and I had a good talk last night and he told me everything. At least I hope it was everything?" he glanced at his son who was sitting next to him, looking a little sheepish.

"Yeah, Dad," Ryan replied. "No more surprises. I promise."

"I owe you both a huge debt of gratitude," continued Fitzgerald. "I'm just sorry things got so out of hand."

"It was nothing, sir," replied Ray with a dismissive wave.

"Well, the whole incident has opened my eyes to a few things," said the Superintendent. "Number one, parenting isn't easy," he chuckled, raising his eyebrows expressively.

They all laughed politely, even Ryan.

"I mean, when they're babies you feel that overwhelming sense of love, but you don't anticipate the struggles ahead," said Fitzgerald. "But it's all worth it, isn't it." He smiled fondly at Ryan, who squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

"I know exactly what you mean, sir," said Ray.

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience," observed Fitzgerald, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

Ray nodded. "My third," he began. "Well I don't know where I'd be without her now, but when I first had her, she was temperamental as hell. Always fussing, always hungry. Cost me a thousand bucks just to have her delivered. Then I laid eyes on her and I knew I wanted to hold onto her forever. She has this gorgeous voice and she's the most beautiful shade of green…"

Fitzgerald wasn't sure if he'd heard that correctly. "Green?" he queried, looking flabbergasted. He glanced at Fraser for an explanation, but Ray couldn't wait to get to the punchline.

"That '71 Riviera's always been the car of my dreams," he explained with a wide grin.

The Superintendent laughed. "Oh I see. You're a lucky man, Detective. I had to sell my '64 Impala when Rebecca came along," he explained. "I take it you don't have kids of the human kind, then?"

"Er, no, sir," replied Ray. "I'm afraid my marriage didn't last quite that long."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the Superintendent answered, respectfully.

"Yeah, well she wasn't," noted Ray, dryly.

"What about you, Constable. Do I hear the pitter-patter of tiny Mountie feet?" asked Fitzgerald.

"Ah, well, no, sir," replied Fraser. "Not yet."

"Not yet?" Fitzgerald queried. "But you'd like to, someday."

"Well, um, maybe?" replied Fraser, suddenly wishing he hadn't started this. "That is, first of all I'd need to find a woman…"

There was a sudden crash and they all turned to see the waitress picking up pieces of broken glass from the floor…except she didn't appear to be concentrating on the task at all. Instead she smiled coyly at Fraser and with her free hand she deftly undid the top two buttons of her uniform top.

Fraser made a move to get up from the table, but Ray stopped him with a firm hand on his arm.

"Ray, I should help her clean that up," said Fraser with a frown.

"I think she's got it, Benny," replied Ray with a grin. "You were telling us about finding yourself a women," he added with a wink.

"Oh…yes…right," Fraser cleared his throat, wishing Ray hadn't reminded them all. "Well…er, I was referring, hypothetically of course, to the need to find a mother…a mother for my children," he continued reluctantly. He felt his face flushing red. "And, well I suppose, the next stage would be…um…well, marriage, possibly, although that's not a necessity of course. However, the benefits of a stable family unit for the children…er, child…child, or children, whatever form that may take, formal or otherwise, are well documented."

Ray clasped his hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to stop the laughter erupting. He knew it was cruel to watch his best friend squirming and he felt he should step in and save him from further humiliation, but he was enjoying it too much.

"Actually, in many Inuit families…" Fraser continued.

That was enough for Ray. "Benny, you'll make some kid a great Dad one day," he noted.

"Thank you kindly, Ray," replied Fraser.

"I need the bathroom," Ryan announced and he left the table.

"I meant what I said," said Fitzgerald after his son was out of earshot. "I really owe you both. I had no idea he didn't want to be a cop. Why didn't he say something sooner?"

"He thought he was letting you down," Ray explained. "And believe me, there's nothing worse than the feeling you've disappointed your old man."

"I would have supported his decision," insisted Fitzgerald. "And the youth centre, well…" he trailed off and tried to gather his thoughts. "To think he's done all that on his own and helped that girl and dealt with those thugs. My wife and I are so proud of him."

Ray smiled and nodded. "He's a good kid," he said. Three days ago he would never have expected to be saying that about Ryan, but it was true. It was obvious from his expression that Superintendent Fitzgerald was proud of his son and he deserved to be.

Ray couldn't help but feel a pang of envy for Ryan. Ray's own father had never been proud of him. No matter how hard Ray tried he could never recall one moment where his Pa had congratulated him on any of his achievements. He'd never seen the point in achieving good grades at school and he'd been completely against the idea of his son becoming a police officer, insisting that Ray would never make it through the Academy. Ray had proved him wrong on so many occasions though and he would have given anything just to hear his Pa say 'Well done, son'. Just once.

"So what are Ryan's plans now?" Fraser enquired.

"You'll have to ask him that," replied Fitzgerald. "He withdrew from the Academy first thing this morning. We talked about his options, but all his mother and I can offer is advice. You know Ryan, he will make his own decision. However, I suspect he will enrol in college. He spoke about that a lot last night. I told him there's no rush, though. He needs to be absolutely certain that he's doing the right thing this time."

"And the youth centre?" asked Ray.

"Ah, well, it's funny you should say that," replied Fitzgerald, just as Ryan came back to the table. "I was just going to tell them about the money," he said to his son. "But you can tell them."

"Sure," said Ryan, a huge grin enveloping his face. "So, apparently the Chicago PD have a grant set aside for youth projects," he began. "So I'm gonna apply and hopefully use the money to find better premises. I really want to keep Carl's Place running while I'm in college. I know it'll be tough, but I owe it to Carl…and to Lulu."

Fraser smiled. "What you're doing is highly commendable. If I can be of any help at all, you know where to find me," he said.

"Thanks," replied Ryan, blushing.

Just then the waitress brought over four plates of food on a tray and proceeded to place them on the table. She left Fraser's salmon dish until last. "There," she said, leaning closer to him than was necessary. "Are you sure there's nothing else I can do for you?" she asked, looking him straight in the eye.

"Not at this juncture," replied Fraser, leaning slowly away from her as he spoke.

"I'd like some ketchup," Ray piped up.

The disappointed waitress stood up and glared at him. "It's on the side," she said, pointing to the counter. "Get it yourself."

xXxXxXx

The four men talked amiably as they ate their meals. Superintendent Fitzgerald was contemplating ordering coffee when his phone rang. With a roll of his eyes, he pulled it from his pocket. "Fitzgerald," he said. "Yes…OK…OK…I'll be there in ten. Don't let him leave."

He quickly pocketed his phone. "I'm sorry, gentlemen," he said, "but duty calls."

"Anything I can help you with, sir?" asked Ray, eagerly.

"Thank you, but no," replied Fitzgerald. "It's a problem with one of my staff. Nothing I can't handle." He pulled out a bundle of crisp, green Dollar bills from his wallet and placed it on the table. "Lunch is my treat," he said. "Sorry to have to cut it short." He quickly shook hands with Fraser and Ray and gave his son a hug before racing out of the door.

Ryan picked up the cash from the table and counted it. "Thanks, Dad," he said, rolling his eyes. "This isn't enough. Um, you guys have any money? I'm a little short."

"Oh dear," said Fraser. "I'm afraid my pay cheque was late this month, an unfortunate mix-up. Er…Ray?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "Here," he said, opening his wallet. "How much do you need?" he sighed.

"Sixty," replied Ryan.

Ray baulked. "No wonder I've never been to this place before," he said and he reluctantly emptied his wallet of notes and coins. "There, that covers the tip too. Should keep your waitress friend happy, Benny."

"Oh, she's not my friend," said Fraser, with an innocent expression. "We've only just met."

Ray and Ryan laughed. "Thanks, Vecchio," Ryan said as he collated the money. "Don't worry, my Dad'll pay you back."

Ray shrugged. He hoped the Superintendent would remember the debt, because there was no way he was ever going to chase it.

"He's…he's OK, my Dad I mean," added Ryan. "I realised I can talk to him man to man. I'm not a kid anymore." He paused before continuing. "Hey, listen, Vecchio," he said, his face suddenly serious. "I wanted to, er, to say sorry…about what happened that night at the jewellery store."

"Oh, that," said Ray. "Well, kid, it's all over now. I picked up my gun this morning, all cleared. Forget about it."

"I can't," replied Ryan honestly. "It was my fault you had to kill that guy."

"Use deadly force," Ray corrected him. "We say 'Use deadly force'. The shrinks came up with that, I think."

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I know," he replied. "Well, listen, whatever you call it I know it's not easy. You saved my life that night."

Ray nodded. "On balance, it seemed like the best thing to do. For the sake of my career, I mean," he said.

Ryan laughed. "In that case, I'm glad you value your career so much," he said. "Listen, I gotta go. I got a lot to figure out and a whole bunch of application forms to fill in. So, er, I guess I'll see you around."

Fraser got to his feet and shook Ryan's hand. "Say hello to Lulu when you see her," he said. "She knows how to contact me if she needs any assistance, although I suspect she is going to be just fine."

"Yeah," agreed Ryan. "I need someone to run Carl's Place for me and I figure she's the perfect person for the job. She won't take any crap from anyone."

"Indeed," agreed Fraser. "And if there's anything Ray, or I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask."

Ryan nodded, smiled and left the restaurant. Ray left Fraser to settle the bill and he walked outside to wait in the car.

A few minutes later, Fraser walked out of the restaurant into the bright Chicago sunshine. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a homeless man, George, whom he'd helped a few weeks previously when his dog had been injured. Fraser turned his head and smiled at the man.

"Good afternoon, George," said Fraser with a nod of acknowledgement.

"Hello Constable," replied the man. His little dog came running over to Fraser .

Fraser leaned down and made a fuss of the animal. "My my, Sasha, you're looking well," he said to the animal.

"Thanks to you," replied George. "Where's your wolf?" he asked.

"I'm afraid this restaurant is strictly no dogs," explained Fraser. "So he had to stay at the Consulate."

"Pity," replied George. "Come on Sasha, " he said, beckoning to the dog. "See you around, Constable."

Fraser waved as the little dog bounded off down the street with George struggling to keep up with her. He stood up and was about to cross the road to join Ray in the car when something else caught his eye. Something red…wearing a hat.

"Hello, Dad," he said with a puzzled frown. "What are you doing here?"

The ghost of Robert Fraser looked up at the sound of his son's voice. He was standing beside a lamp-post at the corner of the block with his hands behind his back.

"Just enjoying the sunshine, son," he replied. "Full of vitamin D, you know."

"Dad, you don't need vitamins, you're dead," Fraser pointed out.

"Why do you always feel the need to remind me?" asked Bob with a sigh.

"Sorry, Dad," replied Fraser, feeling a little guilty. The two Mounties stood in silence for a moment, before Fraser spoke again. "Um, Dad, it's nice to see you, but Ray's waiting for me."

"Oh, right ," said Bob. "Well don't let me hold you up. Good work with that young lad, by the way."

"Thanks," answered Fraser with a nod.

There was another pause. "I should, um..." he began, nodding towards the Riviera. As far as he could tell Ray hadn't noticed him yet.

"There was one thing," said Bob suddenly, just as Fraser was about to walk away. "A question," he added.

Fraser raised his eyebrows in expectation.

"I was just wondering," began Bob. "Did you...that is...when you made your career choice ...was it...I mean, did you...did you only join the RCMP because you thought that's what I wanted?"

Fraser was a little stunned by the question. Eventually his expression turned to a warm smile. "No, Dad," he answered. "I always wanted to be a Mountie. For as long as I can remember. I believe in the principles of the RCMP, I believe in justice and truth and I'm proud to wear this uniform...and I wanted to be just like you."

Bob swallowed hard. "But...but I..." he trailed off, unable to speak.

"It's alright, Dad," said Fraser. "You don't have to tell me how you feel."

Bob nodded appreciatively. "Your mother would have been..." he began, but emotion prevented him from finishing his sentence again.

Fraser smiled and blinked away the dampness which had suddenly appeared in his eyes. "I know," he said, his voice barely a whisper. Then, with a final nod of acknowledgement to his father, Fraser crossed the road.

Bob watched his son walk away. "I'm so proud of you, son," he said, even though he knew Fraser was out of earshot.

Except, of course, Fraser's acute sense of hearing meant he heard his father's voice as clearly as if he'd been standing right next to him. "Not as proud as I am of you, Dad," he whispered. He turned back, but his father had disappeared.

Fraser found Ray sitting in the driver's seat of the Riviera turning his gun over and over in his hands. Fraser opened the passenger door and joined him in the car. He studied Ray's movements for a second before speaking.

"Are you alright?" he asked, softly.

Ray glanced up at him and smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine," he lied. He wasn't fine, not yet, but he was getting there. Having his weapon back in his hands had brought the memories from the other night crashing back into his mind and not even an expensive lunch could block them out for long.

"Did you make an appointment with the therapist as Lieutenant Welsh suggested?" Fraser asked.

"No, Benny," replied Ray with a frown. "I've not needed to before and I don't need to this time. Load of baloney, anyway, all that psycho mumbo-jumbo. I told you, I'm fine."

Fraser nodded and thought it best to change the subject, although he made a mental note to keep a close eye on his friend over the next few weeks. "Ryan seems a lot less troubled, today, doesn't he," he said.

"Yeah," agreed Ray, slipping his gun into his belt. "Like a different kid. Amazing what a good talk with your Dad can do."

"Indeed," agreed Fraser. He paused momentarily to glance over his shoulder into the back seat of the Riviera, but it was empty. Not that he would ever admit it to his own father, but Fraser didn't know how he would have coped without his ghostly visitations since he'd arrived in Chicago. He hoped his father would appear soon, he actually wanted to talk to him about Ryan.

"You know, Benny," continued Ray. "I figure Ryan could have been a good cop," he said. "The Academy would've knocked that attitude out of him for one thing."

"I agree," replied Fraser. "However, his heart wasn't in it. That much was obvious. This is not the career to pursue unless you're absolutely committed."

"Some of us should be committed!" Ray laughed at his own pun. "I always wanted to be a cop," he continued. "I mean, it was the last thing my Pa wanted, but his opinion meant about as much to me as Al Capone's. Maybe that's why I was so determined? To prove him wrong, I mean."

"Al Capone?" queried Fraser.

"No, my Pa!" exclaimed Ray. He turned the key in the ignition and the Riviera roared to life. "Listen to that," he said with a smile. "Pop didn't want me to buy this car, either…the first one, at least. Said it was waste of money. Jeez, Benny, Pa was such a… such a…" but he couldn't bring himself to say any of the colourful nouns he was thinking of.

 _Why do I still waste so much anger on my Pa…? It can't be healthy…maybe I should see that shrink after all…?_

"Ryan is very lucky to have the Superintendent as his father," Fraser noted.

Ray nodded. "Did you mean what you said back there?" he asked. "About having kids one day?"

Fraser took a deep breath and pondered his answer. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "In all honesty it's not something I've given much thought to."

Ray smiled. "You're great with Maria's kids," he noted.

Fraser's face fell into a perplexed frown. "Maria's children already have a father, Ray."

"Yeah, well, one day I might just have to throttle Tony, so don't leave town, Benny," Ray replied.

Fraser looked shocked until Ray broke in to a laugh. "I'm kidding, Benny," he said.

"Ah," said Fraser with relief.

"You know, Frannie's real broody right now," continued Ray as he pulled out into the traffic.

Fraser had a sudden choking fit and Ray chuckled. He internally chastised himself for teasing Fraser so much, but it was so easy.

"Can you imagine the results of the gene pool, Benny?" he said, with a quick glance at his friend. "Fraser-Vecchio kids would be so gorgeous. Handsome boys and beautiful girls. Just imagine…" he trailed off and bit hard on his tongue to stop himself laughing.

Fraser was incapable of offering a reply so they drove for the next five minutes in silence. Then Ray's voice cut in again. This time all the humour was gone.

"Fraser."

"Yes, Ray?"

"You get my sister pregnant and I'll kill you."

"Understood, Ray."

THE END.


End file.
